I slept as soundly as ever -- which is to say, not hardly -- and every time I woke up to commune with nature, ease a crick in my neck, or shift to a position that didn't make my fingers tingly or my left ear hurt, I looked out the window, because Snowmageddon was coming. It's been all over local TV and Internet for the last few days: White Doom From Above!
The initial prediction called for the snow to begin late Friday night. It kept not arriving. Along about 6:00 a.m., non-local double-daylight time,* it was 38°F and the back yard looked pretty nice -- dry, leaf-piles ready for the Spring clean-up, sky overcast but not especially threatening.
Seven-fifteenish, in the middle of making an indulgent breakfast,† I glanced out the window: sidewalk still dry. Well, dry-like. Or not. Kind of blotchy, really -- I looked up: snow is just starting to swirl down.
It's here.
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* Indiana is on the far western edge of the Eastern Time Zone. Come Daylight Savings, the sun rises late and stays up partying until long into the night. Tamara loves it (it's good match for her, if you substitute "writing" for "partying") but I do not.
† Three slices of bacon, one egg and a stack of "Swedish" pancakes, basically thick crepes served with butter and sugar (or, traditionally, lingonberry jelly; I like blueberry jam on 'em but the good stuff is spendy), which I dearly love. I feel guilty making them just for myself -- but I'm home alone this weekend, which somehow makes it okay.
Update
4 days ago
6 comments:
Each and *every* day in February down here was at a *minimum* 80 degrees F.
So, of course that meant March has been in the 40s...
We got nuttin' here in the Hive of Minnesnowta, but just 80 miles west they're going to end up with near a foot of white, wet, sloppy (and heavy) glue-ball wormening.
I am on the west coast of Michigan, right half way up the mitten. Nothing but sunny and 42 degrees F. Weird weather? No, just Michigan, we are used to it. And living this far west, we get to enjoy the 10 o'clock sunsets in the summer as well. I worked 3rd shift for years, 11 til 7 or there abouts. I worked a 10 mile drive west right to the Lake Michigan shoreline. So I drove into the sunsetting in my eyes and rising into my eyes, every day. I was there for 35 years.
Far western edge of the ETZ.
Here in Philly I am thinking that the correct time to move the snow thrower to the back of the shed might just be Memorial Day.
I wonder if I might need to cut the grass before I use the thrower again.
Nathan: dyslexia's a hell of a drug.
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