Saturday, February 9, 2013

Baby's First New England Blizzard

And, in this case, when I say "baby", I mean, of course, me.  

Because of a hiccup of time, I had been planning on doing a lot of errands on Friday.  Though, because of a "life threatening snowstorm" (oh, weather channel), I had to pare down to just necessities (trader joe's, joAnne's, then out to lunch), and head home to batten down the hatches.  Which, in our case, means buying sleds, which I did. 

Then, after a last minute toilet paper run, we holed up for the evening with our pal Chelsea.  We snacked, watching Drowning Mona, and ventured out once into the swirl of snow.  The wind howled and our windowsills started to fill with snow, and we went to bed hoping the power would stay on.

When I woke up this morning the snow was still falling, though less heavily.  I found our power on and myself completely and totally over snow.  Like, yeah, yesterday was fun, but, let's just get on with regular life now.  Unfortunately, for a while, at least, that's not in the cards.   

After sitting in pajamas most of the morning, I finally mustered the wherewithal to put on snow boots and venture outside.  And this is what I found:

Cars.  Chelsea's is the red one.  This photo is taken from our front steps,which were an indistinguishable mound.

Leg.  That's mine.  I've pulled up my coat to capture this.  It's me, thigh-deep in snow outside my house.  I can't believe I just typed that phrase.

A wider shot.  Same situation.  Chelsea was standing on the steps when she took this, and just beyond me is the street.  I'm smiling on the outside, but in my head I'm thinking, le sigh.

There are no sidewalks anymore, so we walked on the snowy street.  I think Chelsea might be smiling on the outside and the inside.

A snowy street.  Relative desolation.  (that yellow awning is the Chinese place I can see from Edie's window.  I think it indicates that we live in the slums.  I love it, it reminds me of Brooklyn)

This is our house.  Those are the buried cars, the mound of snow that used to be the steps, the thigh-deep snow leading to the street.  Keep all this in mind, as it will be important later.

Snow-bound. (though, later, Chelsea and I jumped from the porch into the drifts, so, it wasn't all bad)

The snow is light and powdery, and the wind drifted it in crazy ways.  I can't open my back door because of the two feet of snow in front of it, but the path leading to the garage door is icy but clear.  It also made these graceful, swirled patterns.  They look like rock formations.

We hashtagged Nemo.  Branding is everything, and we like to be on top of it.

The cookie butter, the real hero of this blizzard.  You deserve all the credit.

So, there's more to this story.  After our walk and after more pajama sitting (I changed back), we ate some goat cheese and then buckled down to shovel ourselves out.  James declared we'd work in shifts and Chelsea and I took the first one.  Just as we started on the steps, a miracle happened, in the form of a friend of our neighbor's in a blue truck with a plow on the front of it.  He dug a path from the street to the sidewalk, and then proceeded to dig out the driveway.  Chelsea and I worked closer to the cars, and scooped the snow while he pushed it into ten foot piles on either side of the driveway.  He worked for about a half an hour, doing what it would have taken us hours to do.  A total, total miracle.

Because, saints alive, have you ever shoveled snow?  I hadn't.  And it's really, really, really hard.  Like, farm work hard.  Maybe.  I've never done farm work, either.  But everything hurts.  My back, my neck, my shoulders, my wrists.  Land sakes, my poor wrists.  But, it's done, and we can pull the cars out, and that actually feels pretty good.

So, fingers crossed we get a nice warm spring rain in, like, a week, that melts this all away.  And if anyone has ideas for a thank-you gift for our knight in shining baseball cap, I'm taking suggestions.

*Update: church was cancelled.  i never had snow days as a child, and if this is any indication of what they were like, they must have been awesome.

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