Snow survey sez!

Emjay will ruin it for everyone!

Yes indeedy, of all respondents to yesterday’s snow poll, only Emjay would devirginalize fresh untouched snow, marring the pristine landscape for everyone who follows.

If she’ll do that, what else might this woman be capable of? She comes over for lunch and admires your silverware, then the next time you go to set it out you notice strangely that you’re a fork short.

Or you’ve rolled out sod and all that every tender grassy tendril desires is a chance to blossom into an adult blade and then in steps Emjay. Bye bye blades. After all, she kills innocent bugs who’ve done her no harm in her home. Who’s to say sod is any safer?

Or … or you’ve just poured fresh concrete for the backyard patio. You’re standing back, wiping your brow, enjoying the fruits of your labor, admiring the smooth blemish-free surface and precise edges. Then suddenly whomp! whomp! whomp!

“Sorry,” she giggles. “I thought it was snow.”

Nothing gets past me, not even her disarming laughter beneath which lurks a wanton landscape menace who will preserve no scenic beauty for her own pleasure and play. What to do? Short of locking her inside her house like a common convict, which likely she is because she’s Australian and we all know the Australian settlers were convicts, there’s only one way to deal with Emjay: