I love New England. One of the things I love most about it is that is has four distinct seasons (five, if you count Mud Season). So when the winter weather here starts acting like the winter weather in the South, i.e. rainy and cool with no snow, it kind of annoys me a bit. I expect to have snow. And we have had no snow (or bitter cold) since November. We had a wet fall, and that seems to have extended into winter.
I normally don’t mind a little snow, as it is New England and we expect to get some (mostly) between November and March. But the two storms that we have had most recently have been a bit more problematic, mostly because of strong winds and heavy coastal flooding.
Over the last couple of days, we had our first nor’easter since we moved to Winthrop. The storm caused wind speeds here near the coast to pick up quite a bit, and as result there was a pretty heavy surf along the beaches here too.
Not much, but some. When I got out to Basil this morning, there was a couple of inches of snow on everything, so I had to clean off the car a bit before I drove to work. The roads weren’t that bad, all things considered. Not much of a storm really. The snow continued for a while, and was still coming down in heavy flakes after I had been at work for a few hours.
By the time I get home, I imagine much of it will be melted. Hopefully shoveling will be minimal. Ah, spring in New England.
The weather recently has been a lot warmer, for the most part. It feels like spring is already here. I have been able to wear shorts a few times. Already we are seeing blooms all over.
Just this past weekend, I was thinking about how I should probably go ahead and put away all of my snow shovels, ice melter, windshield scrapers, and other winter paraphernalia. I was also thinking about how I did not use the snowblower once this winter, after using it so much last winter.
Well. I should have realized that the weather in New England always has the last laugh, especially when it comes to winter.
Poor Basil. He has suffered immensely this winter. Still, our Mini Cooper has, like us, managed to survive this record-breaking winter and has been buried in snow more times than I can recall. At least digging him out isn’t so bad most of the time since he is so small. And it certainly makes it easier to park in narrow spots nestled between snow piles.
But getting through this winter unscathed was not meant to be, I guess. Last night, on Route 99 where it goes under Rutherford Ave in Charlestown, we hit what was probably the biggest pothole I have ever seen, at least on a road that wasn’t being washed out underneath.
but we have yet another big snow storm on the way. Another blizzard, in fact.
This afternoon I got dressed to head outside for some quick errands: drop off some DVDs at the library; stop at the market across the street from the library for some milk; shovel out the steps and the walk.
And while I was out, I also got some pictures.
To some extent, the same is true after Snowpocalypseageddon here in Greater Boston. Everyone has already fought for the last loaf of bread or gallon of milk, so the next thing to fight over is parking spots. And boy, do people get medieval about those.
You may not know this (I am assuming a lot of Amish read our blog), but we are going to get a lot of snow very soon.
Yes, clearly we are already headed for the history books on this one and it hasn’t even happened yet. I think we have already broken records, mostly in regard to media hype. “I’ll take apocalyptic references to the Blizzard of 1978 for $500, Alex.” The French Toast alert system is so far into red that it’s gone way into the infrared spectrum. Everywhere I go, it’s Blizzard Freakout mode, and the handful of people being reflective are talking about the big one of 1978. It’s like I am attending a history conference about that massive weather event of my childhood.