Every year on December second or so, we have a snow storm around here. This year it blew through on December first. I think the timing is perfect because the five or six inches we usually get are just right for wonderful, wintry Christmas card pictures.
This storm knocked out power and caused more accidents than usual. Some people even died. We also didn't get the blue skies and sunshine that normally follow. Instead we had a warm cloudy day with rain. Not very Christmasy.
But the storm's appearance at this time of year should not come as a shock to anyone. Especially the weather forecasters. I don't know why they don't just check the almanac and automatically put it on their to-do list, instead of acting like it's some kind of meteorlogical phenomenon every time. "We're getting an early storm here in a couple of days, a little unexpected. . ."
Yo -- Doppler radar breath -- this year was no different than all the other years. Same date pretty much. Same time. Same place. Okay, the storm was a little sleetier and a little more slippery, but it's the same old storm we've been having for years. I've got pictures of me from twenty years ago, standing in front of my big evergreen, next to a very short snowman I made from the heavy wet stuff we got on this same date. I still had dark roots back then. There's also one of me holding a wreath in front of the same tree a few years later with straighter, even blonder hair. Come back in a couple of weeks and the pix will finally get posted.
My personal experience this year was also slightly different than previous years. I arrived home in one piece, after driving around watching people slide through intersections, hit curbs and spin out, only to discover that my storm doors were iced shut.This was not a happy occasion, since I usually get back to my house needing to use the bathroom. It quickly became clear that my biological imperative was stronger than I was. No matter how hard I tried the door was frozen shut. So I called a friend and drove as quickly as I could to her bathroom.
After heeding nature's call, I was invited to stay overnight and deal with the iced doors in the morning. Ever the procrastinator, I accepted.
There was a copy of "From Bagdad With Love" on the nightstand by the guest bed. It's just one of a bunch of recent, heartwarming nonfiction books about dogs. Although there's also a good one about a baby whale called "Grayson." FBWL on the other hand, is about a marine colonel who saved a stray puppy, despite regulations which forbid fraternizing with animals. He managed to get him back home against all odds, one of which was having the dog taken from him and shot. I finished the book under cozy covers this morning instead of fighting Mother Nature at my house.
When I left there was almost no evidence that a snow/ice/sleet storm had come through last night. Back home again, my stuck door opened with little effort. I made the right decision.
There's no snow left, so no pictures. But, like I said, there's always next year.