Snowmageddon...Part Six

Sunday, January 24, 8:24am. 

Officially tired of posting this picture. As soon as I'm done with breakfast, Pam and Lucy and I will venture out to walk and play and measure the stuff. Then it will be time to shovel for the second time. Around 11:00 yesterday I cleared the front steps and sidewalk. Last night at 10:00 it looked like this when I opened the front door:

No church today. Got the email last night. 

I posted this photograph on my Facebook wall this morning. It moved me more than I can express. Here we all are making snow angels and sipping hot cocoa while at the tomb of the unknown soldier, this is happening. This soldier, with a thin pair of wool gloves and nothing covering his ears from the brutal wind and snow, keeps watch. In this age of celebrity worship, reality television presidential candidates, and abject national silliness, there are still men and women like this. Duty, honor, respect still have the capacity to inspire, don't they?

The greatest thing about this storm has been the fact that every meal I've eaten since lunch on Friday has contained sausage. My wife is amazing. She knows that one of the few tools she has in the battle against my antsiness and cabin fever is...food. Wise woman, she is. However, delicious sausage not withstanding, I have informed her that I will be driving out of here today. She sighed heavily and smiled. 

Snowmageddon...Part Five

Saturday afternoon, January 23, 4:09 pm.

Around 5 hours ago I shoveled a lane from my back door to the patio so Lucy wouldn't have to trudge through a foot of snow on her way to do her business. Now all that work is covered by a foot of freshly fallen snow and the drifting of a thousand winds. Although I haven't ventured out with a tape measure, my eyes tell me that there is over a foot on the ground.

Many of you know me quite well, and for those who do, I'm sure you're wondering how I am managing my well-known cabin fever attacks. An excellent question. The truth is that it hasn't been too bad so far. I can, however, feel it coming on. At some point I will insist on taking Pam's car out to Martins for something that I will convince myself we desperately need. Why Pam's car? Well, I may be antsy, but I'm no idiot!

Up to this point I have fought off my cabin fever with stuff like this: 

Yes, I think I may have had just a bit too much fun with this one!

I took a nap earlier and while I was asleep my wife embarked on another one of her tidying up campaigns. She completely reorganized the cookware cabinets to accommodate her new cast iron skillets. Then she had time left over to set a "snow table" overlooking our front yard: 

Rumor has it that she is planning some sort of afternoon dessert consisting of the left over waffles from breakfast and vanilla ice cream. 

So, yeah, everything is positively idyllic around here. But all of this lovely vibe will vanish into thin air the very second we lose power, so I guess I better relax and enjoy it while I can!

Snowmageddon...Part Four

Saturday morning, January 23, 8:04am.

Looks like about 9 inches out there. Overnight the snow became sleet...lots of sleet. There's a 20 inch deep pile of it at my front door where it gathers after it slides down the roof. The Donald Trump of weather forecasting, DT Tolleris of Wxrisk.com, has been forced to issue a mea culpa this morning. Apparently, all of the local TV weather guys who had been warning of the sleet transition all week...the very same guys who DT was calling "losers and idiots"(sound familiar?) ended up being right. So, we will not be getting two feet of snow after all. 

We learned something new about Lucy last night. To the long and tortured list of things which she is deathly afraid of can be added...sleet tingling against windows.

So, last night she's laying at our feet on the bed like normal when all of a sudden a gust of wind blew a sheet of sleet against the windows of our bedroom. Immediately she jumped off the bed and ran into the closet. Eventually she made her way back on the bed during the night, when in the midst of a rather loud hail of sleet, we were awakened by a shivering puppy trying to burry her head under our pillows! 

This morning, the sleet has stopped and the old girl has had a romp in the backyard and all is well. Waffles and sausage links are cooking for breakfast, and at some point I'm going to have to venture outside to dig us out.

Be safe everyone.

Snowmageddon....Part Three.

 4:17 pm. 

There has been a flurry of activity over the past five hours, if you get my drift. Thanks, Snowbama!

Pam has made cookies.

The fixins for sausage and lentil soup are being prepared.

The wind is starting to blow. When you look outside its hard to tell how much of what is coming down is snow and how much is just snow blowing off of the roof. Either way, the stuff is starting to pile up. At some point Lucy is going to need to venture out into it for her first pee trip since 6:30 this morning. So far she has shown zero interest. I guess we'll soon discover just how strong her bladder actually is.

Speaking of politics...I wonder which Presidential candidate would be most likely to volunteer to shovel my driveway?

Bernie Sanders.....too old, might throw out his back.

Hillary Clinton....not a chance, although she might ask Huma to take a shot at it.

Martin O'Malley...would jump at the chance! Only he would insist on stripping to the waist and asking me to get a shot of his rock hard abs and post it on his Facebook page.

Jeb Bush....wouldn't know how.

Chris Christie...would collapse of a heart attack

Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz would fight each other over who gets to shovel my driveway.

Rand Paul wouldn't want to insult my intelligence by stooping to such pandering.

Donald Trump would promise to shovel my driveway, but would end up sending over a couple of Honduran day laborers to do it.

Snowmageddon...Part Two

10:54am. 

After a mere 30 minutes of snow, the creeping white death begins to pile up.

Ever notice how no matter how often we remember to take care of our bird friends during bad weather, they never reciprocate? When was the last time a few yellow breasted finches dropped a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread on your front steps? What we have here is a one sided relationship. With the birds it's always, take, take, take. It reminds me of the problems we are having with our welfare state. These birds have grown quite accustomed to their largesse. They expect it now. Whenever I let the feeder go empty for a couple of days, they line up on the deck rail out there, all facing towards the house squawking up a storm...."To heck with this early-bird crap, we want our sunflower seeds...NOW!" Then, a few minutes later a couple of crows fly up and get the rest of them even more riled up. They are probably the union agitators of the bird world. Before you know it, little wrens and swallows and such are flitting around the windows dropping twigs all over the deck, and now the protests start sounding more organized.."What do we want??....FREE SEED!!...When do we want it??...NOW!!!" It becomes apparent how things are going to work. I mean, I saw that Hitchcock movie. I cave and give them what they want. I don't want any trouble. Especially today.

Snowmageddon...Part One

What follows is my record of events on this, the 22nd of January in the year of our Lord 2016, the day when the world went white. Snowmageddon. Snowopolis...many clever names have been carelessly thrown about by heartless scolds on the Internet. But I am here to bear witness that...the horror is real. In this blog, I will attempt to record for posterity what it was like to experience, and hopefully survive the monster storm. To all of you fighting the elements along with me...Godspeed!

7:30am. 

Ok, it hasn't started snowing yet, but a "before" picture seemed prudent. Notice that I have filled the bird feeder. My bird-loving son-in-law will be impressed. Also notice that my neighbor has left his car outside facing the wrong way in his driveway. Very poor storm preparation. Also notice that the umbrella at my deck table is still in the fully upright position. Geeze. That's embarrassing.

7:30am. 

Pam has wisely stocked the pantry and fridge with all the essentials. The really good stuff is in the fridge out in the garage.

8:26am. Made it into the office.

Still not snowing.

Despite pending arrival of deadliest snowstorm of this century, greedy Wall Street money-changers still chasing mammon! "Inside the cloud" headline darkly ironic.

                                                ...To Be Continued....

Five Years of Opinions

This month marks the beginning of my sixth year writing this blog. Five years is a long time. I've written an awful lot about a lot of things. Although I can't say that I've learned something, I can say that I'm in the process of learning something about myself...and that is that not every idea that pops into my head deserves an audience. Not every argument that is born in the fever swamps of my imagination needs to be aired, not every thought that bubbles up in the tar pits of my mind comes to me fully formed, not every opinion holds up to the glare of public scrutiny. Self-censorship is a learned skill which requires lots of practice.

My wife probably wishes that I was better at it. Sometimes I write about things that cause her no small degree of discomfort. She will say, "Are you sure you should say that about that when you know that so and so reads your blog?" To which, I usually reply either, "Actually, I never thought about it," or more often..."So?? If so and so doesn't like it, they can start their own blog."

But I am getting better at this whole self-censorship thing. Just yesterday I saw something on the internet that some self-loathing white liberal academic had written trying to assuage her industrial strength guilt, maligning white people for having the gall to celebrate Martin Luther King Day. Maybe two, three years ago I would have taken the bait. But this time I just let it go. The much hyped national conversation on race doesn't need my take on the matter. 

Of course, sometimes I can't resist. I hear nonsense coming out of the mouth of some politician, and before I know what hit me I've just published a thousand word takedown chocked full of sarcasm and vitriol. Or, even worse, some alleged Christian pastor somewhere tries to raise money from the widows in his church so he can purchase a private jet, and within minutes my iPad is smoking hot. Interestingly enough, the blogs that are born out of white hot anger are by far the most satisfying to write. It's insanely fun to obliterate an idiot.

Of course, over the past five years I have benefited greatly from two unpaid editors, the sainted Denise Roy and my long suffering wife. Between the two of them, I get lots of texts and emails that go something like this:

"Ok, remember...it's either/or, neither/nor!!" 

" Pretty sure you meant to say you're instead of your"

" You wrote, take your shorts. Did you mean to say, take your shots?"

Five years has flown by. Here's hoping that five years from now President Trump hasn't outlawed blogging.



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