Oh, with giddy anticipation, once the cackling imprecision of breathless long-view predictions had put in our minds the slimmest glimmer for a foot-high snowfall fever dream, did we all hustle and bumble into dedicated preparation last week. But a complex convergence of multiple systems and fronts made it hard to know what all those models were promising. And we all should understand and be forgiving of the floundering meteorologists: the models are playing catchup to the shifted landscape that comes with climate change uncertainty.
When I woke around 4:30am Sunday morning, it was 14°F and we had mostly gotten sleet, in abundance. The barest incidence of light snow flakes and occasional pelting by fat cold rain drops were nothing compared to an inch or two of those rough tiny granules of ice. Sumner hated it, finding it to be terribly disconcerting. Scarlett, true to her shepherd, husky, and Saint Bernard lineage, was ready to seek a cliff face for ice rappelling.
Reports around the state and region made it clear we were lucky in terms of damage but we missed out on what would have been an enormous gorgeous snowfall had the precip been otherwise. Just around the corner from the house was what appeared to be the command center or staging hotel for one huge crew that never had to go out since we didn’t get all the ice that was so fearfully anticipated.
Our power stayed on even if elsewhere fortunes were much less bright. To have this much sleet coverage was a bit of a wonder but it also really was coming down for a good part of the day. Imagine if it had only made it all the way down as snow! I still got out and trudged my 3.5 miles while the sidewalks and streets were stompable enough as long as the boots were steady and sturdy...that's when I spotted the linemen's trucks behind the hotel and was sure those crews didn't mind never getting called out.
Speaking of crews: a team from Budd Services (the company that provides groundskeeping for the neighboring office building) spent Saturday night in their trucks on the parking lot behind us. We get to see these gentlemen regularly through all seasons, always impressed by their diligence and focus.
After daybreak Sunday, they emerged into the brutal cold and got busy spreading ice melt and running the scraper blades. But yeah: tell me again about the immigrants who don’t work but who are taking our jobs…?!
The Monday that followed all this was bright and sunny but still cold and breezy. As is so often the case, the house looked lovely in that early morning light but I also knew I'd have to get the flatblade shovel in hand and get to work clearing off the front steps for the postal carriers and some sort of path across the parking lot down to the street.
And a task like that is a sore and painful reminder that I have entered my seventh decade on this earth.
An even colder arctic push invaded overnight Monday so that by the time I got up Tuesday morning, it was 11°F on my Tempest weather station, and the nearby Smith Reynolds Airport was registering 9°F. Current projections are that our area will continue to experience below-normal temperatures perhaps into the latter part of February. You can count on me to keep you posted, especially if bellyaching results.
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