Well, the weather has finally warmed up enough that I can reasonably wear shorts outside. Most of the snow piles have disappeared. This nasty winter seems to have claimed what I hope is its last casualty: my truck.
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.
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.
Well. As I said to one of our neighbors recently, “I like winter, but I am not used to getting it all at once.” This winter may have started off pretty mild, but starting at the end of January, we have now gotten a ridiculous amount of snow. In fact, we broke a record for most snow in a 10 day period. And now we are in the middle of the third major winter storm in two weeks.
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.
Well, after we had the original Snowpocalypseageddon event two years ago, I figured since that was so epic it might be a while before we have anything like that again. But I was wrong, apparently. Looks like we are in for quite a doozy tomorrow night. And to make matters worse, winds will be blowing so hard that we may actually meet the official criteria for this to be a blizzard.
Although we are WAY under our usual quota for snow so far this season, winter has decided to let us know that it is still here, and that all those warnings from the Starks were not for nothing.
This morning when I got up, the temperature according to the little weather tool on the kitchen computer was -3 degrees Fahrenheit, and the wind chill was somewhere between -20 and -25 degrees, depending on just how hard the wind was blowing. It would be white walker weather, except for the lack of snow.
Last night the temperature dropped well into the teens, and it hardly felt any warmer this morning when I got up and went to work. So it’s safe to say that winter is no longer just coming, it’s here, and we got our new hot water heater just in time. Hot water is essential for winter survival – just ask the Starks of Winterfell.
Every winter is a new adventure here in Cambridge. Not for us, really, because we have seen New England winters, but for so many of the students around here that hail from sunnier climes. Many of them tend to not know what to make of serious winter weather, especially when they are driving.