By some convention I've never understood, it seems to have been generally agreed, at least in the Anglophone northern hemisphere, that "winter" begins on the Winter Solstice (although the Winter Solstice is also referred to as "Midwinter", so go figure). In recent years, this has seemed almost reasonable, as what we would call winter weather in these parts hasn't been arriving until well into January, whether because of global climate change or just because that's what the weather felt like doing.
Not this year, though. Thursday's storm was bad news for many around here because of when it hit, and because everybody in the Northeast forgets from year to year what snowstorms are like, so the first one is always a disaster. For those of us who didn't have to go anywhere during it, it wasn't so bad; yeah, there was a lot of snow to shovel, but it was light fluffy stuff. We were pretty exhausted by the time we finished shoveling out the parking area in back (which our neighbors had made a start on earlier, so they could get their cars out), but it wasn't unmanageable.
This one is different. The Christians are wrong: six inches of snow changing in midmorning to freezing rain is not the work of a benevolent god. I got out there to shovel the walk just as it was changing over, and it was already, by my standards, beginning to be "heavy" snow. Two guys came by with shovels and asked me if I needed help, and I said no, almost immediately regretting it as I realized that I should have hired them to shovel out the parking area. Fortunately, they had not yet found a job a minute or two later when
jwg (who is so much smarter than I am) came out; as he came around to help me with the walk, he said, "I hired two guys to do the back". Forty bucks, and well worth it.
This afternoon we're going to curl up on the couch and watch the Patriots game, and wonder at the foolishness of the people who actually go and sit in the stands in these conditions.
If we keep having storms like this, we're eventually going to have to face one of my least favorite decisions: whether to cancel a dance. (I note that several other dances this week have, in fact, been cancelled. We are fortunate in that the next scheduled dance for which we have any responsibility isn't until December 29.)
Not this year, though. Thursday's storm was bad news for many around here because of when it hit, and because everybody in the Northeast forgets from year to year what snowstorms are like, so the first one is always a disaster. For those of us who didn't have to go anywhere during it, it wasn't so bad; yeah, there was a lot of snow to shovel, but it was light fluffy stuff. We were pretty exhausted by the time we finished shoveling out the parking area in back (which our neighbors had made a start on earlier, so they could get their cars out), but it wasn't unmanageable.
This one is different. The Christians are wrong: six inches of snow changing in midmorning to freezing rain is not the work of a benevolent god. I got out there to shovel the walk just as it was changing over, and it was already, by my standards, beginning to be "heavy" snow. Two guys came by with shovels and asked me if I needed help, and I said no, almost immediately regretting it as I realized that I should have hired them to shovel out the parking area. Fortunately, they had not yet found a job a minute or two later when
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This afternoon we're going to curl up on the couch and watch the Patriots game, and wonder at the foolishness of the people who actually go and sit in the stands in these conditions.
If we keep having storms like this, we're eventually going to have to face one of my least favorite decisions: whether to cancel a dance. (I note that several other dances this week have, in fact, been cancelled. We are fortunate in that the next scheduled dance for which we have any responsibility isn't until December 29.)