LEDGER COLUMNIST
From now on, I'm looking to the rock

Klonie JORDAN

OK, that does it.

From now on, I'm relying on my own system of weather forecasting.

I was really looking forward to Saturday.

I was looking forward to it because they had assured me that it was going to snow.

While I'm not in favor of dangerous driving conditions or inclement weather of a life-threatening nature, I figure a little snowfall every now and then is, for the most part, harmless.

Besides, I like the idea of being snowbound, of stretching out in my recliner with a good book with my trusty hounds curled up on the floor by my side. You know, a real Norman Rockwell kind of setting.

I have this picture in my mind that has been there for years of what it's going to be like when I retire. The missus and I are going to be living in a mountain cabin by a lake. I'm going to be sitting at my desk in my den, glancing out the picture window at the foot or so of snow on the ground, taking a moment every now and then between paragraphs of the great American novel I'm going to be writing to enjoy the frosty majesty of a winter morn.

I'll be sitting there typing at a leisurely pace with a toasty fireplace on one side and shelves filled with my collections of books and sports memorabilia on the other.

The missus will bring me a hot cup of chocolate with those little marshmallows (I JUST LOVE THOSE LITTLE MARSHMALLOWS) floating on top and she will take a seat in the chair beside me and we will admire my Pulitzer and Nobel prizes and wonder what all the little people are doing on this fine snowy perfect-novel-writingweather day.

Anyway, that's the picture I have. And I was looking forward to a sort of preview on Saturday because the weather people had convinced me it was going to snow.

And I believed them.

I even arranged my recliner so it faced the window. That way, I could watch the snow pile up on the deck outside between chapters of reading.

They said it would start as rain just after midnight Friday. So I got out of bed Saturday morning expecting to see the beginning of snowfall.

Nothing.

I goofed off around the house for an hour or two and then went and looked out the glass doors in the den.

Nothing.

A couple of hours later there was still nothing, so I checked the Internet. They said it was going to snow between four and eight inches in and around the Gaffney area.

"Ah, so it's just late getting here," I said to myself. They said it would start snowing at around 2 o'clock. It didn't.

By 3:30 we were getting some light rain and a little ice.

I went and looked out the doors again, straining my eyes to try and make out some scattered flakes among the rain drops. But there weren't any. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Maybe if I wished hard enough, I COULD FORCE IT TO SNOW!

I heard that Disney theme in my head, you know, the one that goes, "When you wish upon a star…"

I wished hard. Really hard.

Still no snow.

The frosty precipitation I was promised never materialized.

As a weather event goes, this predicted snowstorm was a soda burp in the hurricane of life.

I WAS SO DEPRESSED.

So from now on, I'm using the rope-and rock-method of meteorology that I saw a picture of somewhere the other day. At a campground or some type of public attraction, they had tied a rope around a rock and hung it from a sign post. The rock gave you all the insight into weather you would ever need. Here's how it works:

A. If the rock is dry, it means fair weather. B. If the rock is wet, it means rain.

C. If the rock is swinging back and forth, it's windy.

D. If the rock is jumping up and down, an earthquake is occurring.

E. If there's dust on the rock, a dust storm is happening. F. If you see a shadow under the rock, it's sunny.

G. If the rock is white on top, it's snowing.

This is what I am using from now on for weather information.

The rock is never wrong.

I just looked out the door again and noticed I can't see the rock.

You know what that means? That means it's night time.

See, the rock is never wrong.

So I'm going to have myself a cup of hot chocolate and then go to bed.

Honey, do we have any of those little marshmallows left?

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com)is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger.