October 31: Snow Began Falling, White Halloween, All Hallows' Fairy Tale

...One evening, just before Christmas, snow began falling.  It covered house and barn and fields and woods...

Yes, in Charlotte's Web, snow begins falling at the normal time:  just before Christmas.  Not at the end of October, on All Hallows' Eve.  It's a white Christmas, not a white Halloween, that E. B. White describes.  It's the way the world should work.  Orange and yellow and pumpkins in October.  Snow and ice and white in December.

Of course, E. B. White didn't live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  This morning, I woke to a snow storm.  A couple of inches had already fallen, and the wind was ripping through the trees by my house.  It was miserable, and it didn't get much better throughout the day.  Trick-or-treating was an exercise in arctic endurance.  I even saw a couple of kids dressed up as Santa Claus.  Ho, ho, holy crap it was cold.

In the U. P., complaining about the weather is a favorite past time.  There is a caveat:  only born-and-bred Yoopers are allowed to voice dissatisfaction.  A non-Yooper complaining about the snow will be the butt of jokes, subject of derision, object of complete disdain.  We live in a harsh place.  Yoopers accept that.  Thrive on it.  Everyone else...Well, they're just not crazy enough, I guess.

Once upon a time, an ice merchant named Olaf lived in the frozen kingdom of Youpee.  Nobody bought ice in Youpee because everything was already frozen.  So Olaf was dirt poor.

One All Hallows' Eve, Olaf was getting drunk at the local tavern.  He was complaining to no person in particular, "I haven't sold a block of ice in six months."

The bartender put another shot of whiskey in front of Olaf and said, "We live in Youpee.  We piss ice here.  Why don't you sell firewood instead?"

Olaf shook his head.  "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard."

The bartender shrugged.  "Suit yourself."

Olaf got so drunk that night that he fell down on his way home and froze to death.

The next day, a heat wave that lasted seven years struck Youpee.  Ice became as precious as platinum, and all the ice merchants in the kingdom became filthy rich.

Moral of the story:  timing is everything.

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

Hope the Great Pumpkin's good to you tonight