9:44 am: Have corresponded with a client in the south. He says it’s under 50 degrees and everyone is bitching. Asks how long it takes to dig out after two feet of snow. I said it’s like everyone has the flu for a week. If we’re lucky and it turns warm, we just have flooding everywhere.
10:34 am: We got ourselves a blizzard.
Meteorologists say a blizzard has to meet three conditions, per ABC News:
1. Sustained wind or frequent gusts of 35 mph or greater.
2. Considerable falling and/or blowing snow reducing visibility to under a quarter mile.
3. These conditions have to continue for at least three consecutive hours.
We are there.
Or, a Blizzard could be a tasty dessert from Dairy Queen. I’d much prefer that kind of blizzard.
My plow guy just came to do the driveway, because if he waited until the end of the storm he wouldn’t be able to do it. He’s got to be paid for each visit, of course, and well worth it. That was visit #1.
1:00 pm: Was out with the little dog, who isn’t even that little, and I could not even tell if he peed. I had dug him a little trench to pee in but it got filled up with more of the white crap. Now the wind is whipping around really good. The big dog, who looooooves snow, actually wanted to come in after a while. No kidding, that is the first time in three years he’s wanted to come in out of the snow. My wife says he was shivering. It wasn’t doing me a bit of good either.
3:32 pm: Spent a good solid two hours working. All the while the crystalline menace grew deeper and colder, the wind erasing my shoveled path. I felt like St. Augustine, or one of his lesser scribes, scribbling away as the Vandals knocked at the gates of Hippo.
4:37 pm: Little dog has been a pain in the rear end most of the day. He’s seen snow before, but never anything like this. I finally did catch him in the act of peeing, but to do it he first had to watch big dog to see how he would manage the vast piles of snow. More is caught than taught, they say.
Remember last July, when the country was roasting under the blistering hot heat dome and I was so miserable? Good times.
5:51 pm: The dog hater down the street, Bat Fastid, finally came out with his snow blower, only to find that his snow blower doesn’t work that well in two feet of snow. He somehow managed to keep it going, for which I thank God, because if it exploded and left him standing there blinking like a guy in a cartoon it would have been more than Christian charity could bear. It could have even been dangerous for me.
6:55 pm: The snow, which was light and puffy as fairy dust, no good at all for making a snowball, has suddenly packed on the ground into a solid layer of crap, about the consistency of Lego blocks. That was a dirty trick, Winter. I know I brought it on myself for wishing ill on the dog-hating jerk, even if he is a jerk.
7:06 pm: Just got word that the county is lifting the snow emergency, effective at 11 pm. Which will be followed by the snow plow drivers’ drunk driving emergency as all those guys go get hammered.
9:21 pm: Completely exhausted. Accomplished work goals, shoveled a lot, made dinner. Ready to die. And I never even made it as far as the sidewalk today.
And we’re supposed to get more snow tomorrow.
March 15, 6:51 am: The walkway has a solid block of snow three inches deep that cannot be removed without possibly damaging the bricks. With a high of 22 expected, it doesn't seem likely to change soon. On the other hand, the top is crunchy and can be crossed in safety. Better yet, God has smiled on us, and it looks like we will have only some flurries today. And we didn't lose power.
Our plow guy never returned for plow #2, and the weight of the stuff on the driveway makes me worry that he broke his truck somewhere along the line. It's a very strong truck -- he pulled my car out of a snowbank once, for real -- but it isn't very new, and neither is he. I hope he's okay for his sake; he's a good guy. Maybe he's a little hungover.
Final totals for our town: between 19.3 and 22 inches, depending on whom you believe. Also included in totals: One frantic puppy, one dog who found out that his beloved snow is not always his friend, and two exhausted and achy adults.
Oh, St. Patrick and St. Joseph, pray for us, that we might see some sign of spring on your feast days!
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