Seasons according to Lois

If it ever so happened that you had no idea what season it was, you could always look at Nick and Lois' house across the street to figure it out. In our neighborhood of small bungalows, built during the Great Second World War, theirs is the one that is always modestly festooned, appropriate to the time of year.

Lois has a flag for every season that she hangs out next to the front door on very specific days of the year. I know this because I've lived here for seven years. A week before Thanksgiving, the one with the turkey dressed as a pilgrim comes out. When the second week of May rolls around, the one with the daffodils makes its appearance. There are a couple of different ones for Halloween, a snowflake to mark the arrival of Winter, a leafy one when she declares the start of Fall.

During the summer, Nick spends a good deal of time mowing their grass, and in the Fall he's out there every day sucking up leaves. Clearly, he's in charge of the outside. He's also in charge of putting up the decorations, usually under her watchful guidance. Lois spends some time gardening, poking around in the various pots that Nick has arranged on their little porch and she goes for regular walks around the block.

Around this time of year, they usually bail out and spend the winter in Florida. It is always a huge relief to me when they both return in April because you see, they're both in their eighties. They've lived here all their lives, seen countless neighbors come and go. I'm very sure that Lois has delivered ginger snap cookies to every one of them, just like she did to us, the day we moved in.