If It's May, There Must Be Snow

Snow is predicted for tomorrow evening. We had no snow during the entire month of March for the first time in recorded meteorological history, but it is now predicted for tomorrow.

I might not entirely care about that most Friday evenings, but tomorrow night I'm going to be volunteering at the Friends' School of Minnesota Annual Plant Sale. I did this last year, too, because if you volunteer at the sale, you get a pass for the pre-sale the night before. And, over time, the pre-sale has gotten so popular that a number of things actually sell out before the sale ever officially starts.

Now, I'm not a big enough gardener - or shopper - to really want to elbow my way through either the regular sale or the pre-sale, so last year and this year I've given my pre-sale pass to Christopher's mom as her Mother's Day gift. This year I admit that I did send a very small shopping list of my own along, but even that isn't for me - it's for a few things I'm going to send to my own mother.

But, I've digressed. I was talking about the importance of tomorrow's weather.

You see, last year when I volunteered, I volunteered for a job during the week before the sale, helping to put things together inside the area under the grandstand at the State Fairgrounds. It was kind of warm outside, although it was cooler inside until we got to working.

This year, though, I needed to work around my work schedule (last year, that wasn't such a big deal with my part-time schedule). As I searched for non-work-hour jobs, I came across a great job that sounded easy and quick: straightening up the unsold trees, shrubs, and roses on Friday evening. An outdoor job seemed like a great way to stay out of the craziness and noise of the sale, and seemed to be the perfect way to wind down after the workweek.

Then the weather changed. And I found out that tomorrow's high is predicted to be in the upper 40s (average highs are in the upper 60s), with rain all day, switching over to wet snow before all is said and done. Which means that tomorrow evening I'll be spending 4 hours standing outside in the rain and chill so that I can tidy the shrubbery. (And, yes, I suspect that some of you just read that last word in a Monty Python voice.)

So... Why not come warm me up tomorrow evening at the State Fairgrounds? You can shop for your garden plants. You can make a donation to a relatively-worthy cause. And you can give me a reason to feel that I didn't spend the entire evening simply trying to come down with pneumonia.

Just remember to dress for the May snows.