Sorry...or, you are welcome

If you love snow, you are welcome. If not, please except my most sincere apologies.

What? You didn’t know I control the weather? Well, you are correct, I don’t.

My wife and daughter, however, do. Thank or scold them for this sudden frozen climate we now find ourselves in.

Last Friday, while starting their three-day weekend, my wife and daughter cleaned the front yard of all of our Halloween paraphernalia. See you later, scary spiders. Talk with you later, tombstones.

Charity and Sophia did me a solid by cleaning up the Halloween decorations this year. Usually, I get that job done a day or two before stuffing the turkey and whipping the spuds for Thanksgiving. Not this year, no sir. My gals gave dear old Dad a reprieve from this task this year...but I should have known they were up to something.

It seems as though each year the Christmas tree goes up in our a house earlier and earlier. This year, that fact remained constant.

Friday saw the Halloween tear-down, but only because those two wanted to hoist the Christmas tree. Three full weeks before Thanksgiving -- and seven until Christmas -- and the Hebert living room is already lit-up like Rockefeller Center.

That’s fine with me. Tis the season -- or close enough. The only problem I have with the earlier than usual lighting of the tree is what inevitably follows the angel-topping...snow, cold, winter, blah!

Without fail, no matter when the Christmas tree is formed -- yup, we roll with a fake, pre-light white sort -- winter seems to start, full force.

If you were looking forward to icy roads, frozen nostril hairs and a windshield that you can’t see through, thank them.

If you are like me -- you enjoy shorts, flip flops and not having to start your car twenty minutes before going somewhere -- boo and hiss them ...that is what I spent my Sunday doing.

At least this year I got the air-conditioning out of the windows before the tree made its initial appearance. That hasn’t always been the case.

Thanks for reading and aloha.