It has been a quiet week in Lake Wobagon.

It's been kind of a chilly week too, and today the first of the screen windows are coming down,

the first of the storms are being put up.

Some people have gone to combination windows that don't need to be taken down and put up.

And some people wait until the first snow flies, the dreamers, the unstable element in town.

But most of them take down the screens and put up the storms, and a lot of them are doing that

today, while it's still warm enough to enjoy the job.

It's kind of a ritual there in Lake Wobagon, and especially at the Sons of Canute Lodge,

where every year about this time they have the ancient and honorable ritual of fall house cleaning,

and all of the canutes gather for the ritual storage of the ancient lawnmowers

and the ritual installation of the ancient storm windows.

And the grand oya stands up on the steps before

the canutes assembled and issues the call to cleaning.

Now it's the time for all you guys to help to make this place spiffy.

And all of the canutes respond,

Oh, yeah.

And then they all go inside

for the ritual tasting

of the amber essence of the blessed hops.

And after about an hour of that,

the grand ohya doesn't dare let them near the stormwinds. For fear one of them may attack a canoe and get them down on the ground and hurt them.

To a lot of those old guys, the word annual means that it takes a year.

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