An Obiter Dictum

As my last post made clear, snow has returned to the hills of New Hampshire. Once again the familiar crystalline white is spread over the surrounding countryside like vanilla icing. The sun has returned, fortunately, but it smiles not on budding flowers but on ubiquitous white. As an autochthonous New Hampshirite, I cannot be very surprised; nevertheless, I had no presentiment of this foreboding doom, and I have an animadversion to obnoxious surprises.

As the dour clarion calls of the pessimists reverberate throughout the land, I must allow that their lamentations have not completely convinced me that winter has become perdurable. Although I was disillusioned by the return of the hiemal weather, I am something of a realist. The return of favonian weather is inevitable, so if I simply exercise my longamity all will eventually be satisfactory. In the meantime, I have often found music to be a roborant when the prophesies of the clerisy are less than roseate. Therefore, allow me to present a little song I wrote to alleviate the pain of those who are suffering (including you in Georgia, where the temperatures last night were in the twenties!), to ameliorate, as I was saying, the discomfiture of any who both endure psychrophobia and read my blog.

Neither the sound quality nor the nor the stridulous tones of my voice in the nether regions of its range are outstanding, but I hope you found this diverting anyway.

P.s. Can you tell I was trying to get Claire to comment? :)