It begins with a whisper of wind
The day began with a whisper of wind. A swirling of snow, a tapping of bare branches against each other, just enough to promise better times on the way. I checked the road cams before daylight, secure in the knowledge that mercury vapour lamps would show any new accumulations on the various interchanges. After all, with the “snow-dometer” now reading 336.2 cm, we’d never notice any change from the windows of the house.
The telephone brought the news long before our various websites had their bulletins prepared, but within a few minutes the whole family began the “snow dance“. for those of you living in more temperate regions, we have a deal with the educational institutions of the area: bad weather (really bad weather) has a price. If we can’t see the school doors, we don’t have to go inside.
Our whole family is aligned with the knowledge sector of the economy, so a school closure (temporary, not permanent) is reason to give thanks. Once we’d worn ourselves out from the frantic gyrations (see “snow dance”), we returned to our calm existential lifestyle. Bagels, coffee, a quick wiggle. Life is good.
A day inside requires comfort food, so as soon as the supermarket one street over had turned on the cash registers, I headed in to collect the necessary ingredients for a big pot of chili. How big? Well, the measured volume is twelve litres, so I probably have enough food on the stove to get us through the afternoon and evening. Until then, the dog will have more attention than she knows what to do with, and my posting for today will be much earlier than usual. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Just in passing, ten trucks were caught in an avalanche at one of the local snow dumps. Enough of an incident that the mayor was telephoned during the night (as if he could do something about it).
