Reality Check

They are finally admitting that you could get your ass killed by underestimating weather like this. The local governments have pulled plows off the roads, power companies are ordering work crews to shelter in their vehicles, and Baltimore is ticketing and fining ANY private vehicle they catch on the road.

The only guy the Washington Post could find out shoveling, earlier, was from Wisconsin.

8:59 a.m. Winds whip Wisconsin native, too
The wind has picked up dramatically, blowing snow into a haze that has reduced visibility to a few blocks.

Streets in the Chevy Chase D.C. neighborhood are deserted except for “fools” like Lee Schoenecker, 71, a retired urban planner who lives in the 5500 block of 30th Place.

“Just shoveling to keep up with it,” he said as he paused, his eyeglasses covered with snow. “Shovel early. Shovel a lot.”

“Right now it’s blizzard conditions,” he said. “When I first came out here about a half hour ago it wasn’t.”

“I’ve lived here for 30 years. I grew up in southern Wisconsin. This snow in accumulation, December, last couple days is as bad as I’ve ever seen in southern Wisconsin. Absolutely. And that includes some pretty big snows.”

“That’s serious winter weather,” he said.

Wind whipped snow around him as he spoke. The rain gutters on the house next door had collapsed.

Amid the eerie quiet, the only sound was the muffled ringing of a set of windchimes.

–Michael E. Ruane

A local blogger who is yea better with a camera than I am sent this link to the newspaper’s weather blog.

The D. C. Mayor is on record as calling the conditions “outrageous,” rather suggesting that he feels this is just another indignity arbitrarily visited on his city, like lack of home rule.

The only people who don’t seem to get the picture are my cats, who are clamoring for another outing on the glassed-in sun porch. They will come in grouchily from merely cold or rainy weather, but the spectacle of enormous flocks of birds, staying on the wing to keep warm, I imagine, has them riveted. The poor little bastards are all fluffed up to retain heat and must look particularly juicy and crunchable.

After a while I started to feel bad for them, the birds I mean. I usually find birds kind of irritating, but I realized on reflection that it is because Sweet Tender Girls are supposed to like the Pretty Chirpy Birds and I spent the first couple decades of my life enduring people’s attempts to force me to be a Sweet Tender Girl when I was really kind of a leathery bitch from the get-go.

There’s no sense in the birds suffering for that, so I got a big glob of peanut butter and stuck it on a chopstick and went out and jammed the chopstick in a plant pot at the top of the back steps where they are periodically flying in to shelter and give the cats fits. It’s pretty lame and I have no idea if they’ll go for it but it’s something.

The wedge of black in the center of the picture is a few inches of the car my New Best Friend still has parked in my driveway. Nothing is moving out there but a dogsled.

With apologies to my Canadian friends:


5 thoughts on “Reality Check

  1. Actually I am already shoveled out, thanks my New Best Friend ™. After the snow stopped and the wind died down, around three, I called him and said why don’t we at least disinter the cars in case things are plowed enough that you can get to work, and we just kept at it till everything was clear except my back steps (there’s just a little exit lane there).

    And my mukluks got wet and my old frostnip talked to me, but not too badly; I put on grocery bags over my socks and stuck some of those iron-filing heat things down my boots. Mem., get new boots. These leak.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s