Flashes of Panic

So, despite the sensationalized coverage from the local meteorologists, we only got, what, two, three inches? Hah! The storm missed us!

Well, yeah, it did, but I just came in from clearing our sidewalk, and let me tell you, I’d rather have shoveled eighteen inches of powder.

The snow shifted to rain in the early afternoon. This meant slush in a lot of places for the bulk of the afternoon, but now, with temps dipping back under freezing, any place where the snow was able to soak up water is now setting up like concrete.

Let’s assume it hasn’t frozen yet. Those two or three inches are thoroughly saturated with water; it’s still concrete, just the wet variety. It’s heart-attack snow. I did a first pass of our neighbor’s sidewalk, because if he tried doing it himself (unlikely) he’d die on the sidewalk; otherwise it’s going to set up and be unwalkable until St. Patrick’s day.

I actually broke the handle off one of the shovels, hacking through the frozen crust and chipping the stuff off the sidewalk. There’s a storm drain in front of our house; it was snow-clogged early in the day, and now the water running off our roofs and off the street is pooling where it should be draining. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to skate out there. It will take someone with a pick (or a mattock, but a sledgehammer or splitting maul will do in a pinch) to clear that storm drain now.

While I toiled, I listened to police cars creeping up and down Main Street, with their speakers squawking: “There is a snow emergency in effect. All cars must be removed from both sides of Main Street, or they will be tagged and towed.”

It’s a disappointing storm for kids at the sledding hill, no question, but the trouble created by a winter storm can’t be measured in inches.

Now Playing: Lullaby 101 from Five Stories by Kris Delmhorst

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