After a night of chills, headache, and fever, I went to the clinic this morning. I have the flu. And she says it's going to get worse before it gets better. So much for my flu shot back in October. Heading home to bed....and poor Mama isn't near recovered yet. The kids have the run of the house (but, having had it themselves, they are sympathetic and brought me peanut butter toast in bed and a drink and then juggled to entertain me.)
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Blizzard: Our First Outing
For the first time since Thursday, we were able to get out of our house, off our street, and into the great, wider world.
Which meant a trip to the store!
Actually, the very first trip this morning was to the clinic because Mama was on her fourth day of feeling rather miserable--headache, congestion, and, yesterday, a fever. Yes, she officially has Flu B.
So, when she returned, I went with a neighbor, Miss K, and the kids to the store to fill her prescriptions, as well as pick up some more food, a couple of household items (I don't want to risk running out of toilet paper!), and a few distractions. This was wonderful in several ways: Mama got to rest; I didn't have to drive on the single lane snowy roads; and Miss K, whose road was still not plowed, got to get out to the store, too. And the kids got new Legos! We even had lunch out, a nice treat for me especially after cooking the last 13 straight meals. How often had I ever actually prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday for 4 1/2 days?!? No sack lunches, no take-out, no skipping breakfast. Again, I wouldn't have made a great pioneer woman (in the 19th century or even here in the 21st.)
Better yet, while we were out, the town plowed Miss K's road!
But the town is still a mess and school has been canceled again tomorrow. The friendly plow driver told us that it will probably be Friday before we have school, so that crews can finish all the streets on Wednesday and then clear the schools on Thursday. I'll believe it when I see it. But I'm in no rush. We're having a pretty good time.
The only down side is the real vitriol that is developing in town about the inefficiency in clearing the roads (and ill-informed statements by the mayor that town is clear) and the bad timing of winter break next week (which cannot be switched with snow days this week for a variety of logistical reasons). There is a serious lack of patience and compassion, a real lack of communication and information, and a plethora of name-calling and mud-slinging. People desperately don't like to lose control in their lives and there is nothing like an historic blizzard and 36" of snow to take away some of your power; it's getting ugly. I'm trying to take things as they come, even if it means Sis and Bud won't go to school three weeks straight, excluding the weeks they both missed for the flu.
I type a good game, but it was definitely nice to get out of the house and have another adult lead the kids around the store while I did my shopping. I was getting a mite snippish myself. But an afternoon of quiet Lego building and reading has done wonders and I'm ready to face the days off this week and next.
And the snow is still pretty. And pretty amazing.
Which meant a trip to the store!
Actually, the very first trip this morning was to the clinic because Mama was on her fourth day of feeling rather miserable--headache, congestion, and, yesterday, a fever. Yes, she officially has Flu B.
So, when she returned, I went with a neighbor, Miss K, and the kids to the store to fill her prescriptions, as well as pick up some more food, a couple of household items (I don't want to risk running out of toilet paper!), and a few distractions. This was wonderful in several ways: Mama got to rest; I didn't have to drive on the single lane snowy roads; and Miss K, whose road was still not plowed, got to get out to the store, too. And the kids got new Legos! We even had lunch out, a nice treat for me especially after cooking the last 13 straight meals. How often had I ever actually prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday for 4 1/2 days?!? No sack lunches, no take-out, no skipping breakfast. Again, I wouldn't have made a great pioneer woman (in the 19th century or even here in the 21st.)
Better yet, while we were out, the town plowed Miss K's road!
But the town is still a mess and school has been canceled again tomorrow. The friendly plow driver told us that it will probably be Friday before we have school, so that crews can finish all the streets on Wednesday and then clear the schools on Thursday. I'll believe it when I see it. But I'm in no rush. We're having a pretty good time.
The only down side is the real vitriol that is developing in town about the inefficiency in clearing the roads (and ill-informed statements by the mayor that town is clear) and the bad timing of winter break next week (which cannot be switched with snow days this week for a variety of logistical reasons). There is a serious lack of patience and compassion, a real lack of communication and information, and a plethora of name-calling and mud-slinging. People desperately don't like to lose control in their lives and there is nothing like an historic blizzard and 36" of snow to take away some of your power; it's getting ugly. I'm trying to take things as they come, even if it means Sis and Bud won't go to school three weeks straight, excluding the weeks they both missed for the flu.
I type a good game, but it was definitely nice to get out of the house and have another adult lead the kids around the store while I did my shopping. I was getting a mite snippish myself. But an afternoon of quiet Lego building and reading has done wonders and I'm ready to face the days off this week and next.
And the snow is still pretty. And pretty amazing.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Blizzard: We have Street!
A bulldozer came though this morning and cleared a single, messy path down our street (but not any of its offshoots), making very quick work of it and disappearing again. Then Mama spent more than an hour in the driving rain clearing the pile at the end of the driveway. All of which is to say we are connected to the outside world again! We don't plan on going out at all--it's a narrow and not very clean path--but it's good to know an ambulance or firetruck could get through. No doubt the plows will be back in a few days to widen the road and clear out the side streets, which means more snow blowing for Mama. Best snow blower ever!
Otherwise, with all the rain, the snow is making snow fog and it's getting increasingly blurry outside. It's too messy to play so we're inside with games, puzzles, crocheting, tv, and still enough food so that we don't have to venture out. All in all, doing very well. But then, after months (almost years) housebound, I don't get cabin fever as quickly as others.
Otherwise, with all the rain, the snow is making snow fog and it's getting increasingly blurry outside. It's too messy to play so we're inside with games, puzzles, crocheting, tv, and still enough food so that we don't have to venture out. All in all, doing very well. But then, after months (almost years) housebound, I don't get cabin fever as quickly as others.
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| The "cleared" road. |
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| Our driveway connected to the outside world! |
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Blizzard: Pathways
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| Blessed are the pathmakers |
Neighborhood lore has it that the above pathway to the main street in town was made late last night by a man with a flight to Costa Rica today! It has been quite a lifeline. One neighbor made it to a convenience store and could report that no roads were plowed between here and there. Another neighbor came home this afternoon, trudging up the path, after being stuck at work for three days. And now there are several arteries joining it, from around the corner and up the street plus all the little avenues connecting people's driveways to it. I dug our connection myself--the snow is light and the kids had tromped a path already; then our neighbor blew it wider and smoother for me. Thus I spent all morning talking to friends and neighbors who, glad to get out of the house and into the sunshine, were walking back and forth on our little icy highway. Sure, a few people forsook the path, having their own snowshoes and cross country skies, but most of us stuck to the path and congregated at intersections to chat and compare notes--how long would school be closed (two more days at least), was it true that town was out of diesel for the plows (apparently a FB rumor), how close was the nearest plowed street, and did the convenience store still have milk and eggs (no but they have Funyons!). We even used the pathway to exchange milk, eggs, and onions!
The kids played nearby, digging ice caves in the snow (the man down the street had been an Army ranger and advised them on how to build an ice cave, leaving a lot of room at the top because this is crumbly snow) and sledding down our embankment into our driveway. They later played chase and threw snowballs with friends through the pathways. Now they've headed up the street via the path all the way to their babysitters to sled so more and maybe play Minecraft. No worries about cars . . . or snow plows! And it is so quiet with no traffic anywhere. Just the sound of neighbors chatting up and down the snow paths.
I know that the plows will come eventually, or more precisely the frontloaders, and will obliterate our little lifeline. Sure, I'll be glad to know we can be reached by emergency vehicles and be able to get to stores and school eventually. But for now, I like the snowy labyrinth of connections our neighbors have built.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Blizzard: Day is Done
We came inside around 3:30 ish, after Mama cleared most of the driveway, some of the cars, and a bit of the walk to the mailbox, but none of the long sidewalk. The kids had crawled on cars, dug tunnels in snow banks, and explored the backyard, getting stuck trying to circle the house. Hot chocolate, deep dish oatmeal cookies, and King Cake warmed us all back up. I napped while the kids and Mama had a Poke-marathon upstairs. They're finishing up and I'm making cornbread to go with leftover vegetable-tortellini soup.
Outside, the wind is bitter and beginning to howl; the trees have been defrocked of their snow. It was already getting chilly at 3:30, as the shadows grew longer and the sun began to dip. Where the driveway was cleared is dry, but snow surrounds it high on four sides--highest on the street end where no plow even thought of coming through. Public Works, while working around the clock, says it could be 24-48 more hours. I'm going to say Tuesday or Wednesday before school opens, because, in addition to clearing roads and sidewalks and parking lots, they'll have to think of clearing 3' of snow off all of those flat school roofs. And I think it's supposed to rain Monday, so we'll raise things up in our basement while also clearing channels outside for the water to flow through the snow. Heaven help us if it freezes after that.
All in all it was a good but strange day. Time had almost no meaning. I think we ate lunch twice! I followed updates of friends on FB, with stories, pictures, and information about town plows; all of us so isolated and yet so very connected in this modern world. I couldn't have predicted, waking up at 6 a.m. and being unable to see out our second-story bedroom windows that Mama could've gotten us out the door much less all over the driveway by late afternoon. I admit to a bit of a panic attack seeing all that snow piled up and feeling stuck, stuck, stuck. I remember stories of Pa Ingalls needing to tethering himself to the house with a rope to find the barn safely; that's if he could even open the door! I know that even houses with fireplaces (if you could find the wood in the snow!) were barely above freezing because of the poor heat conservation. No wonder those women on the prairie went crazy. I practically danced on the black asphalt as it was revealed! I'm not as hardy as a pioneer, or most New Englanders. But still I love the snow and am rather excited to be living through an historic blizzard. And I thought the 1996 one in NYC was big! (Well, it was--5th Avenue devoid of cars, listening to thundersnow while staying with Gommie and Aunt Banana at the Waldor-Astoria, trekking through drifts to get to my apartment on W. 44th St.) Our town is right up there with the 38" record accumulation of the storm so far. And what do inches matter when you measure drifts in feet?
Church is cancelled tomorrow; we couldn't get out even if it weren't. We were supposed to go to NYC today to celebrate Chinese New Year with Ma, Gong, and Goo, who were thankfully spared the brunt of this after the devastation they suffered three months or so ago with Hurricane Sandy. I doubt we'll be able to go tomorrow, which is sad especially for Mama and her folks. The kids will be happy to celebrate whenever we do.
And tomorrow there will still be tons, quite literally, of snow to play in.
Outside, the wind is bitter and beginning to howl; the trees have been defrocked of their snow. It was already getting chilly at 3:30, as the shadows grew longer and the sun began to dip. Where the driveway was cleared is dry, but snow surrounds it high on four sides--highest on the street end where no plow even thought of coming through. Public Works, while working around the clock, says it could be 24-48 more hours. I'm going to say Tuesday or Wednesday before school opens, because, in addition to clearing roads and sidewalks and parking lots, they'll have to think of clearing 3' of snow off all of those flat school roofs. And I think it's supposed to rain Monday, so we'll raise things up in our basement while also clearing channels outside for the water to flow through the snow. Heaven help us if it freezes after that.
All in all it was a good but strange day. Time had almost no meaning. I think we ate lunch twice! I followed updates of friends on FB, with stories, pictures, and information about town plows; all of us so isolated and yet so very connected in this modern world. I couldn't have predicted, waking up at 6 a.m. and being unable to see out our second-story bedroom windows that Mama could've gotten us out the door much less all over the driveway by late afternoon. I admit to a bit of a panic attack seeing all that snow piled up and feeling stuck, stuck, stuck. I remember stories of Pa Ingalls needing to tethering himself to the house with a rope to find the barn safely; that's if he could even open the door! I know that even houses with fireplaces (if you could find the wood in the snow!) were barely above freezing because of the poor heat conservation. No wonder those women on the prairie went crazy. I practically danced on the black asphalt as it was revealed! I'm not as hardy as a pioneer, or most New Englanders. But still I love the snow and am rather excited to be living through an historic blizzard. And I thought the 1996 one in NYC was big! (Well, it was--5th Avenue devoid of cars, listening to thundersnow while staying with Gommie and Aunt Banana at the Waldor-Astoria, trekking through drifts to get to my apartment on W. 44th St.) Our town is right up there with the 38" record accumulation of the storm so far. And what do inches matter when you measure drifts in feet?
Church is cancelled tomorrow; we couldn't get out even if it weren't. We were supposed to go to NYC today to celebrate Chinese New Year with Ma, Gong, and Goo, who were thankfully spared the brunt of this after the devastation they suffered three months or so ago with Hurricane Sandy. I doubt we'll be able to go tomorrow, which is sad especially for Mama and her folks. The kids will be happy to celebrate whenever we do.
And tomorrow there will still be tons, quite literally, of snow to play in.
Blizzard: Even More Pictures
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| The basement window. |
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| Their swing seats are covered. |
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| The other basement window. |
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| For you, Pop and Gommie--out the side door. |
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| On the deck. |
Blizzard: More Pictures
Where's Sis?!?
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| Our side door. |
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| Our side window. |
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| Mama's car is in there somewhere. |
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| Sis sitting on top of our metal bench. |
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| Sis at the mailbox. But no mail today. So, that's our street behind her. |
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| It's beginning to feel a lot like . . . . oops, no. |
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| Can you see Sis on top of my car? |
Blizzard: Out Back
Not our highest drift--and it's as tall as the kids--but the easiest to photograph. Can't open any doors--and Mama cleared them last night--but the heat is on. In fact, we're very insulated with the drifts!
Blizzard: Snowed In
Literally, it's waist high--reports say it's near 38" in the area. These are our windows and doors. It's like Little House on the Prairie.
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| Our metal bench is in there somewhere. |
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| Can you see where the street is? Nope. |
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| Out our bedroom window, with snow on the porch roof. |
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| Out the back deck--the drift is as tall as Bud and Sis. |
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| This is the view of the driveway. The drift , from the ground, is about as tall as I am (and I'm 5 ' 8" ish.) |
Friday, February 8, 2013
Blizzard: The Sky is Falling
We are watching the weather, not on tv, but outside our window. It is illuminated by the streetlight on the edge of our yard. We cannot see the houses across the street, not even their mailboxes. A few times we have been unable to see the streetlight's glow or even the branches of the tree right outside our window.
Unaccountably, I'm thinking of sand, of deserts during sandstorms, or of the stream of sand in an hourglass, or of sediment swirling in water. Or of black clouds of swarming bees. Or locusts. Or dark sooty smoke from a big fire. The snow is black, not white, in this light. The air is solid. The sky's ceiling is right above our streetlamp. It is claustrophobic. And it is all yellow, the hue cast by the electric light against the surrounding snow. This is not pretty, majestic gentle snowglobe snow but almost a living, breathing, powerful and possibly destructive entity. The way it moves, up and down, sideways, and back upon itself which such silent force is serpentine. Watching it almost gives me vertigo, like an IMAX moving flying around. Oddly, we can't hear the wind. And no snow is hitting our room because we face south and the wind is from the north. It's eerie.
And beautiful. But not in a peaceful way. Awesome, as in inspiring awe. Terrific (well, not quite yet creating terror). To use an art history term from Romanticism, it truly is Sublime.
Unaccountably, I'm thinking of sand, of deserts during sandstorms, or of the stream of sand in an hourglass, or of sediment swirling in water. Or of black clouds of swarming bees. Or locusts. Or dark sooty smoke from a big fire. The snow is black, not white, in this light. The air is solid. The sky's ceiling is right above our streetlamp. It is claustrophobic. And it is all yellow, the hue cast by the electric light against the surrounding snow. This is not pretty, majestic gentle snowglobe snow but almost a living, breathing, powerful and possibly destructive entity. The way it moves, up and down, sideways, and back upon itself which such silent force is serpentine. Watching it almost gives me vertigo, like an IMAX moving flying around. Oddly, we can't hear the wind. And no snow is hitting our room because we face south and the wind is from the north. It's eerie.
And beautiful. But not in a peaceful way. Awesome, as in inspiring awe. Terrific (well, not quite yet creating terror). To use an art history term from Romanticism, it truly is Sublime.
Blizzard: First Pass
With kids in bed and storm winds picking up (no thunder snow yet, even though we're in the dense purple bands on the radar), Mama has joined several of our neighbors in pulling out the snow blowers and taking a first pass at the driveway. Thankfully, we have a new, powerful, self-propelled, tall blower that is eating through the 1' drifts in the driveway with ease. And while we know it will accumulate overnight, it's important to get it started in case we got so much that our blower would have trouble clearing it tomorrow. That would be no fun.
Oh, hell, the lights just blinked. Please, oh please, don't let the power, or the heat, go out. Let's just hope that was something else. But considering the heavy, wet snow and the winds, I know many of my fellow Nutmeggers and New Englanders will be without power after this. Selfishly, I just don't want to be one of them.
Oh, hell, the lights just blinked. Please, oh please, don't let the power, or the heat, go out. Let's just hope that was something else. But considering the heavy, wet snow and the winds, I know many of my fellow Nutmeggers and New Englanders will be without power after this. Selfishly, I just don't want to be one of them.
Blizzard: Blue Out!
We can't see to the end of the cul-de-sac, nor the fence of the neighbor a couple of yards down. The Blowing snow has created a blue light, rendering the entire outdoors in a bluish grisaille--shades of whites, blacks, and light blue. It's beautiful.
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