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| I took this photo Wednesday morning of our driveway/parking area. |
At 37, I'm too young to remember the infamous Blizzard of '78. I was less than a year old for that storm, which seemingly came out of nowhere and blanketed the metropolitan Boston area with several feet of snow, along with high snowdrifts.
Alas, the Blizzard of '78 is just a memory to many now, but it's a memory that has many Bostonians and residents of surrounding towns scurrying to the grocery store whenever snow is mentioned. For us here, it's called "Got to get the Bread and Milk," something that everyone needs. As my wife so eloquently says every snowstorm, "Do these people just make French toast during snowstorms?" But I digress.
(Quick aside, this video here basically shows the mentality of every single Massachusetts resident when it comes to these grocery store runs pre-snowstorm. Go on, give it a view. It never gets old.)
When we heard about the upcoming snowstorm, we had just received a healthy sheet of about six inches of snow on Saturday. On Sunday, Jen and I delivered a snowblower to my brother-in-law in Connecticut, a drive of about 100 minutes or so, give or take a few minutes. When we got home, we had to unload a bed, and we were both weary from the drive that the only storm prep we did was hit the package store in Berlin, Mass. on our way back. I picked up a 12-pack of Samuel Adams Winter Lager as well as a bottle of Barefoot Pinot Grigio for Jen.
I eventually did storm prep on Monday, which included filling jugs with water in the event the power went out, and at 7 a.m., I ventured out to our local Market Basket grocery store to pick up a few storm essentials--yes, including the bread and milk. I also picked up some bananas and coffee. Afterward, I published Travel Agent, to the joy of many. When Jen came home from school, we filled some buckets with water for flushing the toilet in case the power went out.
Just before we went to bed Monday, the storm began.
We found our south-facing windows frosted over when we awoke on Tuesday, and loads of snow outside. I found my sister-in-law's car practically buried, and while our cars weren't covered, there was plenty of snow building behind them.
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| My sister-in-law's car, buried. |
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| Looking out at the horse paddock beyond the blueberry bush. Can you imagine snow up to your hips? |
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| Jen's truck, the bed full of snow with more piling around it. |
We went out to feed the horses immediately. Walking to the paddock, the snow was already up to my knees at 7:30 a.m., but when we got into the paddock, the snow was nearly up to my hips. The snow just kept coming. The horses, luckily, were smart enough to stay at the shed while I trudged through it, making a path for Jen. I had to catch my breath before going back.
Jen and I simply stayed indoors as the storm raged outside. Jen's uncle came by with a front-end loader and plowed a good portion of the snow aside. We went out again at 4 p.m. to feed the boys, then came in. The storm seemingly stopped after 7 o'clock.
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| Jen's uncle, clearing snow mid-storm. |
Wednesday morning, we fed the boys, and then we started digging the cars out. I had our new car dug out in a couple of minutes, but the truck took a little longer. Jen drove them out, then we dug Bethany's car out, plus a path to the water troughs. Some time later, Jen's uncle came by again and plowed the rest, giving us room to turn the cars around and head down the driveway. There is still a little more shoveling to do, especially in front of my sister-in-law's apartment.
All told, we got quite a bit. The National Weather Service said Bolton received 26 inches of snow, while one town over received 36 inches. I think we got more than 36, but what do I know.
And now we have some snow coming Friday, and more Monday.
I am--well, my knees are--crying uncle.
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| The Diva Kitty and Ziggy Puff and unconcerned about weather events. |
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