Snowed

I call them the neighborhood Nazis. They're a few members of our farm-and-neighborhood association who volunteer to keep watch on public things in our geographical area. In the spring and summer, e.g., they report which neighbors have too many weeds in their yards, and in the winter they report which ones haven't yet shoveled their sidewalk. In short, these crypto-Nazis are spies who are wanna-be policemen.

Anyway, I was in my front, snow-covered yard when I overheard a couple of these "detectives" in the old Miss Olga's yard next door. These Nazis were standing next to two tall snowmen which had been built by Olga's grandkids. But alongside the two snowmen was an unusual, small pool of water in which were floating a snowman's hat, button eyes, and scarf.

The Nazi cops were closely examining the "remains" of the third snowman. "Strange," said one Nazi, "the weather hasn't been above freezing."

"So this is no accident," said the other.