Day 132 — Dealing with the second major storm in as many days. Yesterday it was a terrible ice storm during the morning commute. My windshield was covered in ice and I had to pull over to scrape it just so I could see how horrible the road conditions were.
Today it was snow. Why did it have to be snow? Six to ten inches predicted. Of course, we never close for a snow day. We got to leave at 4:00, but if you’re going to close early, do it before the bulk of the storm hits.
Tomorrow it’s an Arctic Blast of sub zero temperatures. When will this winter end? Only 50 days left…
It’s been a rough, snowy couple of days, Modern Philosophers. I had to get up early yesterday to shovel the snow out of the driveway before work. Then there was an ice storm on the way to work, and I was forced to pull over to clear the ice from my windshield.
It started to ice over again on the highway, where I was unable to make a pit stop to de-ice. So I muddled through as ice pelted my car and a road I could barely see.
Three hours later it was 45 degrees.
Snow Miser is definitely off his meds. What else would explain that kind of severe shift in weather over such a short period of time?
The next storm was already on its way to Maine and due to hit early this morning.
Predictions had this one at six to ten inches, with snow lasting until just after midnight.
What a delight!
I fretted over this one, Modern Philosophers, because it’s hard to deal with this nonsense on consecutive days. I was also supposed to take Luna to the vet tonight for her follow up appointment, and didn’t like the idea of having her out for a drive in a blizzard.
I made it to work without incident, but the whispers in the office were all about how bad the storm was going to be. That did nothing to ease my mind.
So I called the vet and rescheduled the appointment. Then I just waited to see if the powers that be would allow us to close early.
There wasn’t much more I really could do. Either way, the snow was coming. I could freak out about it all day and worry myself sick, or I could just focus on work and believe all would be well.
When the snow finally arrived, about an hour and a half later than expected, I told myself that was an hour and half worth of snow I wouldn’t have to drive home in or shovel once I got back to The House on the Hill.
Leaving the house this morning, I noticed my hat was not in my jacket pocket.
I checked the house, the car, the garage, and then my office, but it was nowhere to be found. Like the Jets, it is now forever lost.
I manage to overcome the crushing loss of my hat, but I still had to deal with this blizzard. I kept reassuring myself that all I had to do was get home safely. Once I had the car in the garage, I could shovel all night or leave it until the morning. It was just snow and it couldn’t hurt me as long as I drove slow and didn’t lose my cool.
I would’ve preferred to leave earlier than 4:00 because I always feel like sitting in the office and allowing Snow Miser to pile all the snow he wanted on the highway is not a sound strategy for dealing with Maine winters.
You should get out on the road before the storm is at its worst so you are already safely locked away in your basement bunker for the brunt of the blizzard.
The drive home was intriguing. I played pace car to a coworker who lives nearby, so I made sure to go slow and steady. While there was a lane cleared on the highway, the winds were strong, the snow was falling hard, and it was near white out conditions.
I’ll confess I might have been white knuckling the steering wheel, but all that matters is that I made it home without incident.
And without snapping the steering wheel in two.
The car completed the ascent of the driveway without a problem, and I got out the shovel and started to clear a path for tomorrow.
The Circle of Maine Life, courtesy of Snow Miser.
The forecast for tomorrow calls for a bitterly cold Arctic Blast to liven up Snow Miser’s all you can stand Winter Rager.
I thought I might go out to shovel again tonight, but I am far too tired and this couch is way too comfy. Procrastination it is!
I survived two more storms, and we are now 50 days from April 1. The 182 Days of Terror are almost done, but it seems like Snow Miser is intent on making these last seven weeks quite unforgettable.
What’s the old saying? That which doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger?
Right now, I’m thinking more along the lines of That which doesn’t kill me only makes me hate winter more.
Sounds about right. For now, though, I’ve set my snow shovel aside, taken off my boots, and settled down for a lazy night with the heat cranked and the TV entertaining me with the best of what my DVR has to offer.
Stay safe, Modern Philosophers. Only 50 more days!
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