Snowstorm

Much ado in advance about what turned out to be a big mess

I typically start writing my posts a week or more in advance, giving me time to noodle over the topic and how best to express my thoughts. When I started on this post last Thursday, the weather forecasters were talking snow beginning Saturday night with predictions of anywhere from 2 inches to 2 feet. Such is life in the Washington area where we are sandwiched between the mountains and the sea and midway up the East Coast, so you never know whether we’ll be at the dividing line between ice and snow or whether the storm will miss us altogether. Apparently our last big storm of this size was in 2016 (the so-called Snowzilla) but to be honest, I have zero memory of this storm and its effects, the only relic being the photo below which I shot from my kitchen window. I guess it was a doozy.

I dutifully prepared, putting one snow shovel by the back door and one by the front, and going to grocery store to stock up on milk and eggs ahead of the crowds. I checked the toilet paper stash in the linen closet and determined that we certainly had enough for two people for the foreseeable future. I triaged emails and texts from the mayor and my council member, my insurance company, pharmacy, and gym. Then I settled in with books and a list of things to stream, mugs of tea and bowls of homemade soup at the ready.

Yesterday morning I woke up to a good 5 or 6 inches of snow on the lawn, the car, and the front walk. So the forecasters, having given themselves a broad confidence interval, got it right. But I also noticed that the deck furniture (pictured above 10 years ago) and the shrubs and trees were bare. The snow had turned over to sleet so the pretty part had ended and the not so fun part had begun. It kept falling throughout the day and into the evening. Honestly if it had all been snow, I’m guessing that 2 feet or more would have been on point.

I wrote about my feelings about snow two years ago when I was still writing on Blogger, the upshot being that I find that it’s all well and good when it first comes down but after that, no thanks. But I got a text from a friend over the weekend quoting what is either an ancient proverb or a quote widely disseminated but attributable to no one: “if you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy, but the same amount of snow.” So I’m trying to adjust my attitude for the days ahead when the temperatures will remain well below freezing and the roads and sidewalks become increasingly treacherous. Wish me luck.