The Storm! Pre-emptive strike?

I’ve put off writing this, waiting to see if the people of Greenland just managed to avert a war or if they recklessly started one with the USA. But nobody seems to understand what is happening, so war or no war, the article must be drafted.

You don’t know what I am writing about, do you? I didn’t think so. You have probably been brainwashed by the mainstream media into thinking that this Winter Storm of the Century, nay, the Winter Storm to End All Storms, was just the result of StraightWhiteMan-made Global Warming. But put your tinfoil hats upon your heads and get ready, for I am going to reveal the true source and purpose of The Storm.

Greenland, seeing that the Supreme Master of All Things was huffing and puffing about taking them over by hook or by crook, decided to throw the first, preemptive punch. They threw down the gauntlet, sent us a small dose of their “normal” weather, and challenged us to experience just what life in Greenland can be like in the summer! “You want some of this?” they shouted across Canada toward the formerly United States. “We've got more where that came from!”

I was waiting to see if our Commandant-in-Chief would pull out our weather-control machines (that we don’t officially have) and blast Greenland with a little Florida Winter weather (It was 69 degrees this morning at Mom’s house, when it was -5 degrees here in Kansas after The Storm had passed) and reply via Truth?Social, “WEEL (sic) MELT ALL OF YOUR ILAND (sic) IF YOU DON’T SURRENDER! YOUR (sic) ALL WASHED UP, BOOGERFACE!” or something equally Presidential.

Alas, nothing has come of it. The war didn’t get called off, nor did it yet start in earnest. Maybe by the time The Storm makes it across to (Needsagood)Wash-ington DC, something more will happen, but as of right now, the hysterics of Conservative-caused Climate Change still rule the news reports.

So how are you spending your last days on Earth (if the forecasts are correct, that is)? As for me, on Saturday, as The Storm continued to rage on outside, I spent most of my “free time” sitting at my desk writing letters. As I pondered the perfect words to put on paper (yes, I was using actual note cards and ink), I was gazing out the window, watching the snow as it blew in sideways. It was similar in that regard to the rain coming down during a hurricane, but this was frozen stuff and looked a whole lot prettier. And colder.

The outdoor temperature that morning, shortly before the Mass, was 3 degrees, and it only rose to 6 degrees for a few minutes about 4 pm. The weather app also showed it being a 15 degrees below zero “feel like” temperature. Of course, that’s balmy for good ol’ Greenland, USA.

My window overlooks the “far side” of the long goat, chicken, and duck enclosure. The chickens never make it to this side. I have seen the ducks waddle this way only once, but the goats come running over, looking for a handout whenever anyone walks near the fence. But not today. They were all huddled inside their shelters, letting the Greenland war’s warning shot pass them by.

But the frigid weather didn’t stop the wild birds from flying all over the place. How in the world do they keep from freezing? I was sitting fully clothed inside a heated building, and I was still shivering. But the tiny birds darted to and fro, seemingly, at least, without a concern of turning into feathered balls of ice. The squirrels, too, seemed undaunted as they hopped across the white field and scurried up and down the trees.

As for me, I actually put on a thermal undershirt under my cassock and wore (gasp!) wool socks with my sandals. Coincidentally, I had just received a care package/Christmas present with three new pairs, so even if the Sisters get backed up with laundry (they pamper me, even doing my laundry!) I will have toasty, or at least not so frozen, little piggys!

When I finally got done with the last letter I would write that day, it was time to hoof it down to the mailbox. The last snow day, I tried doing that in sandals and without socks. I regretted it enough that as soon as the snow melted, I drove down to Walmart and picked up a pair of rubber muck boots, the only boots they had that even came close to fitting. So I put my wool-stockinged feet into the boots, pulled on my coat, pulled a “turtle fur” cap down over my ears, and set out, mail in my gloved left hand and rosary in my right.

These waterproof boots, meant for working around the horse stalls and doing other farm chores, were certainly not the most comfortable footwear I have ever worn. Nor did they have any insulation other than the thick rubber soles at the bottom, and thick, unlined rubber making up the rest of the boot. But what an improvement from sandals when walking through an inch or so of snow! The grip was incredible, and I didn’t slip on the frozen gravel even a single time. Of course, on my return, I had to use a screwdriver to pry the gravel out of the treads, but that was a small price to pay to stay upright!

It takes about two decades and a few Hail Mary’s into the third Mystery to get to the mailbox. The wind was blowing about 15 MPH at the cabin. But as soon as I passed the chapel, the wind was blowing across a large, open field, and, with nothing to hinder it, was at gale force until I could reach the tree line. I had to brace myself against it as it pelted me with light, wispy snowflakes and intense cold. As I exited the parking lot and started walking on the drive, I noticed a set of boot tracks that looked a lot like my tread pattern, except smaller. Somebody else was somewhere in front of me, and there were no return tracks. Sure enough, around the bend near the road, one of the Sisters was on her return trip. I don’t know which one, since (this is no joke) they all look alike in their habits, plus, she was bundled up from top to bottom, including a scarf that completely covered every bit of her face except her eyeballs. We didn’t stop and chat since we were both praying and fighting the cold, blowing wind.

Later, somebody came and shoveled a path from my back chapel entrance to the door of my cell, including scraping the snow off the gravel path! Then, in the evening, one of the Sisters shoveled off my front stoop and stairs again so that I didn’t have to trudge through fresh snow for Compline. As I said, they pamper me!

Sunday morning, the fresh snow that had fallen overnight was three inches deep on that same front stoop/porch, but somebody had already shoveled a path through it before I had to walk through the second day of 3-degree weather on my way to the chapel for 4:30 am prayers.

Sunday Mass attendance was down quite a bit, as most people couldn’t make it through the unplowed rural roads. The wind was down to a gentle (for Kansas) breeze, 10 MPH, and there was no more snowfall. I walked through it to make a few measurements. I saw between 5 and 7 inches of snow away from the buildings. It really is beautiful. But I am glad to be indoors most of the time.

This morning, Monday, the temperature at Mass time was 5 degrees below zero. For the first time since I have been here, none of the locals showed up for Mass. This afternoon, as I finish this up, the temperatures have risen from all the way to 15 degrees! The goats, ducks, and chickens are still nowhere to be seen, and I can’t say I blame them for staying inside!

That’s about it for now. Stay holy and stay warm.

With prayers for your holiness,

Rev. Fr. Edwin Palka