Snow: The Next to the Last Train from Shanghai

Cat 243 Dover by Mary Jo

Maryland, where I live, recently got clobbered by two major snowstorms in less than a week.  Snow records were broken in many places, and even a week after the second storm, there are city streets that haven’t been plowed (can’t be in some places) and the hard working road crews have run out of places to put snow. 

(The picture below was taken by Susan King, who lives less than an hour a way Front_door_2-10-10 from me.  That teeny, tiny little bump in the middle is her mailbox. <G>) 

Ordinarily I don’t mind a really good storm.  I work at home and the larder is always well stocked, and being snowed in with nearest and dearest, both two and four-footed, is quite cozy as long as the electricity and internet are on. 

This time, alas, we were scheduled to take our annual winter vacation from Saturday, February 6 through Saturday, February 13th—and the first big storm was scheduled to hit late Friday and go through Saturday. 

I didn’t know this, being busy with revisions on my first YA novel, but on Wednesday afternoon before the storm, the Mayhem Consultant called to say he’d seen the weather forecast, and maybe could we leave Thursday, the next day?

I shrieked when I thought about everything that would have to be changed—airline tickets, cat care, car rental, a place to stay for two nights—but as soon as I clicked the revisions off to my YA editor, I hopped over to the airline site, and mercifully managed to find two tickets for Thursday evening that wouldn’t break the bank.

Escape in the nick of time!

I spent the next day rearranging everything else and throwing some clothes in a suitcase, and on Thursday evening off we went.   Since the snow was starting on Friday, I thought of our escape as the next to the last train from Shanghai.  <G>  A flight attendant said that Southwest had already canceled all Baltimore flights for Saturday, and not a single flake of snow had yet fallen. 

Back_deck_02-10-10 But the flakes started falling thick and heavy—and the crowd went wild!  As we sat cozily in recliners in Florida, we got to watch The Weather Channel geeks going into orgasmic raptures about the oncoming snow.  THE END OF CIVILIZATION AS WE KNOW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!  (Above is Susan's picture of her back deck.)

Sadly, the weather geeks are running out of cool names for storm systems. Winter Wallop having been used in the past, this time they went for Winter Powerhouse, which we didn’t consider their best effort.  For the second storm three days later, they went for February Fury, which is a little better.

Punsters everywhere were coming up with terms like Snowmagedden, Snowpocalypse, and Snoverkill.  (That last was for the second storm, and indeed, it was overkill. <G>) 

Weather as entertainment

All of this is part of our modern phenomenon of weather as entertainment.  The Weather Channel epitomizes this.  It has been called “MTV for senior citizens.”  <G>  DSCN0096 It has made media stars of meteorologists like Jim Cantore, who has covered so many hurricanes that I understand he is called the “Angel of Death” along the southeastern coasts. 

Weather has always been a major part of the human experience—life or death at most times in the past, and sometime even now, such as when a hurricane slams a vulnerable population. 

Weather is what two people talk about if they are strangers but want to display benign intent.  Where I grew up, comments like “Cold enough for you?” or “Hot enough for you?” depending on the weather, were a way to communicate without taciturn Yankees actually having to say much. <G> (The pictures of the deer were taken directly behind my house.)

DSCN0097 Weather talk is also bonding.  Back when I had a Real Job and worked in an office, serious weather produced all kinds of war stories when we got to work:  “I never would have made it if I hadn’t gotten behind a salt truck!”  “I got on the Beltway and my car immediately spun 180 degrees and almost hit the center wall.  Thank heaven no other cars were coming!!!”  (That last one happened to me once, and very hard on the nerves it was.) 

Weather as a social function

This week in Baltimore, some blocks of people did joint shoveling sessions to clear their streets.  Snow drifts were good places to stash a beer.  Columnist Kathleen Parker talks about how snow makes men crave a really big shovel. <G>

These days, satellite forecasting has made the weather prediction business far, far more accurate than it used to be.  If weather.com tells me that light snow will start falling about noon, I’ll probably be able to glance out the window at noon and see the first flakes.  With two days warning of a blizzard, there is time for the local populace to clear the supermarket shelves of every loaf of bread and roll of toilet paper in town.

As weather events go, a big snowstorm is relatively benign, especially for those of us DSCN0930 who don’t work in essential occupations like health care and public safety.  Ice storms are a different matter. They break trees, bring down phone and power lines, and turn even short drives in white-knuckle terror if it’s necessary to go out.  (The mountain scene above was taken from the cog railway that runs up Pike's Peak.)

Having grown up in the lake effect snow belt of Western New York, I always assumed that masses of snow all winter and drifts higher than my head were normal.  Being raised with that kind of weather seems to imprint us with a certain appreciation of winter storms even if,as adults, we move to more moderate climes.

After the second storm last week, my brother (who lives outside of Washington, DC) cheerfully e-mailed that though the first storm dropped over 30”, it was very soft and gentle. But the second storm had winds and white outs that reminded him of our childhood home.  It was a storm worthy of being called BLIZZARD!  I realize that to most people this may sound more than a little perverse, but I understood perfectly. <G>

DSCN0101

The pros of snow

Because snow and ice do have one terrific attribute:  they’re beautiful.  Walking in a snow storm is silent magic, particularly at night, when the whirling flakes catch every bit of life and make the world glow.  Ice may be a dangerous nuisance, but after an ice storm, when every twig and pine needle is encased in crystal, the beauty is awesome.  A really good snow storm can slow us down to nature’s pace for a few hours or days, and that’s good.  (Picture to the left is behind my house.)

Snow stories

So—what snow stories do you have?  Hair raising adventures, or a willingness to never see another flake again, ever?  If you live in one of those parts of the world that know no snow, do you love to visit it?  As a child, did you envy kids who could build snowmen?  Share your snow tales!

Grady meets snow Mary Jo, showing a picture of Grady the Gray Guy when he discoverd a deck full of snow some years ago.

95 thoughts on “Snow: The Next to the Last Train from Shanghai”

  1. I grew up in the NE corner of New York on Lake Champlain. We now live in Tennessee. I truly miss winter, but this year, we have had more snow here than my Dad has had there. I miss the walks in the woods when the snow is gently falling. Like you said, there is such a special silence. I love it when the only sound you can hear is the snow falling.
    It is lovely, but we have had enough bad trips in bad weather. The 17 hour drive through Canada after a really bad ice storm in December 1973. The trip usually took 10 hours. That same trip, we were the only car on the Mass. Pike which was closed right after we got on headed for NY. Our move from PAFB, NY to Colorado Springs was a real adventure. We got caught in a blizzard in Iowa. With the wind chill, it was 100 below zero. My car broke which was a blessing because it forced us to stop, which we should have done anyway. We spent 3 days in a crummy hotel with a greasy spoon cafe. The snow blew in around our room’s door and it never got above 55 degrees. We had plants, 10 cases of home canned vegetables in glass jars, and a cat and dog. All needed to join us in the room. We had to carry the dog outside, if she walked out, her pads froze to the ground. My DH, two daughters, myself, the dog and cat snuggled in one bed to keep warm in that cold room. Nothing was moving, the diesel fuel had jelled and even the semi’s weren’t going anywhere. They got my car fixed about the time the road was reopened (did I mentioned the interstate was closed for 3 days). When we got to our friend’s in Omaha just 90 miles away, they had very little snow from the storm.
    Glad you were able to get out of town before the storm. We lived in the DC area for 5 years and know how bad traveling can be up there with a bit of snow. Actually we were in DC in January and were scheduled to head home Saturday. We left on Friday and just missed the storm. It hit TN Just as we got home and clobbered DC the next day.

    Reply
  2. I grew up in the NE corner of New York on Lake Champlain. We now live in Tennessee. I truly miss winter, but this year, we have had more snow here than my Dad has had there. I miss the walks in the woods when the snow is gently falling. Like you said, there is such a special silence. I love it when the only sound you can hear is the snow falling.
    It is lovely, but we have had enough bad trips in bad weather. The 17 hour drive through Canada after a really bad ice storm in December 1973. The trip usually took 10 hours. That same trip, we were the only car on the Mass. Pike which was closed right after we got on headed for NY. Our move from PAFB, NY to Colorado Springs was a real adventure. We got caught in a blizzard in Iowa. With the wind chill, it was 100 below zero. My car broke which was a blessing because it forced us to stop, which we should have done anyway. We spent 3 days in a crummy hotel with a greasy spoon cafe. The snow blew in around our room’s door and it never got above 55 degrees. We had plants, 10 cases of home canned vegetables in glass jars, and a cat and dog. All needed to join us in the room. We had to carry the dog outside, if she walked out, her pads froze to the ground. My DH, two daughters, myself, the dog and cat snuggled in one bed to keep warm in that cold room. Nothing was moving, the diesel fuel had jelled and even the semi’s weren’t going anywhere. They got my car fixed about the time the road was reopened (did I mentioned the interstate was closed for 3 days). When we got to our friend’s in Omaha just 90 miles away, they had very little snow from the storm.
    Glad you were able to get out of town before the storm. We lived in the DC area for 5 years and know how bad traveling can be up there with a bit of snow. Actually we were in DC in January and were scheduled to head home Saturday. We left on Friday and just missed the storm. It hit TN Just as we got home and clobbered DC the next day.

    Reply
  3. I grew up in the NE corner of New York on Lake Champlain. We now live in Tennessee. I truly miss winter, but this year, we have had more snow here than my Dad has had there. I miss the walks in the woods when the snow is gently falling. Like you said, there is such a special silence. I love it when the only sound you can hear is the snow falling.
    It is lovely, but we have had enough bad trips in bad weather. The 17 hour drive through Canada after a really bad ice storm in December 1973. The trip usually took 10 hours. That same trip, we were the only car on the Mass. Pike which was closed right after we got on headed for NY. Our move from PAFB, NY to Colorado Springs was a real adventure. We got caught in a blizzard in Iowa. With the wind chill, it was 100 below zero. My car broke which was a blessing because it forced us to stop, which we should have done anyway. We spent 3 days in a crummy hotel with a greasy spoon cafe. The snow blew in around our room’s door and it never got above 55 degrees. We had plants, 10 cases of home canned vegetables in glass jars, and a cat and dog. All needed to join us in the room. We had to carry the dog outside, if she walked out, her pads froze to the ground. My DH, two daughters, myself, the dog and cat snuggled in one bed to keep warm in that cold room. Nothing was moving, the diesel fuel had jelled and even the semi’s weren’t going anywhere. They got my car fixed about the time the road was reopened (did I mentioned the interstate was closed for 3 days). When we got to our friend’s in Omaha just 90 miles away, they had very little snow from the storm.
    Glad you were able to get out of town before the storm. We lived in the DC area for 5 years and know how bad traveling can be up there with a bit of snow. Actually we were in DC in January and were scheduled to head home Saturday. We left on Friday and just missed the storm. It hit TN Just as we got home and clobbered DC the next day.

    Reply
  4. I grew up in the NE corner of New York on Lake Champlain. We now live in Tennessee. I truly miss winter, but this year, we have had more snow here than my Dad has had there. I miss the walks in the woods when the snow is gently falling. Like you said, there is such a special silence. I love it when the only sound you can hear is the snow falling.
    It is lovely, but we have had enough bad trips in bad weather. The 17 hour drive through Canada after a really bad ice storm in December 1973. The trip usually took 10 hours. That same trip, we were the only car on the Mass. Pike which was closed right after we got on headed for NY. Our move from PAFB, NY to Colorado Springs was a real adventure. We got caught in a blizzard in Iowa. With the wind chill, it was 100 below zero. My car broke which was a blessing because it forced us to stop, which we should have done anyway. We spent 3 days in a crummy hotel with a greasy spoon cafe. The snow blew in around our room’s door and it never got above 55 degrees. We had plants, 10 cases of home canned vegetables in glass jars, and a cat and dog. All needed to join us in the room. We had to carry the dog outside, if she walked out, her pads froze to the ground. My DH, two daughters, myself, the dog and cat snuggled in one bed to keep warm in that cold room. Nothing was moving, the diesel fuel had jelled and even the semi’s weren’t going anywhere. They got my car fixed about the time the road was reopened (did I mentioned the interstate was closed for 3 days). When we got to our friend’s in Omaha just 90 miles away, they had very little snow from the storm.
    Glad you were able to get out of town before the storm. We lived in the DC area for 5 years and know how bad traveling can be up there with a bit of snow. Actually we were in DC in January and were scheduled to head home Saturday. We left on Friday and just missed the storm. It hit TN Just as we got home and clobbered DC the next day.

    Reply
  5. I grew up in the NE corner of New York on Lake Champlain. We now live in Tennessee. I truly miss winter, but this year, we have had more snow here than my Dad has had there. I miss the walks in the woods when the snow is gently falling. Like you said, there is such a special silence. I love it when the only sound you can hear is the snow falling.
    It is lovely, but we have had enough bad trips in bad weather. The 17 hour drive through Canada after a really bad ice storm in December 1973. The trip usually took 10 hours. That same trip, we were the only car on the Mass. Pike which was closed right after we got on headed for NY. Our move from PAFB, NY to Colorado Springs was a real adventure. We got caught in a blizzard in Iowa. With the wind chill, it was 100 below zero. My car broke which was a blessing because it forced us to stop, which we should have done anyway. We spent 3 days in a crummy hotel with a greasy spoon cafe. The snow blew in around our room’s door and it never got above 55 degrees. We had plants, 10 cases of home canned vegetables in glass jars, and a cat and dog. All needed to join us in the room. We had to carry the dog outside, if she walked out, her pads froze to the ground. My DH, two daughters, myself, the dog and cat snuggled in one bed to keep warm in that cold room. Nothing was moving, the diesel fuel had jelled and even the semi’s weren’t going anywhere. They got my car fixed about the time the road was reopened (did I mentioned the interstate was closed for 3 days). When we got to our friend’s in Omaha just 90 miles away, they had very little snow from the storm.
    Glad you were able to get out of town before the storm. We lived in the DC area for 5 years and know how bad traveling can be up there with a bit of snow. Actually we were in DC in January and were scheduled to head home Saturday. We left on Friday and just missed the storm. It hit TN Just as we got home and clobbered DC the next day.

    Reply
  6. I love the picture of Grady, Mary Jo! And so true about weather talk having a social function. There’s a wonderful chapter on this in a book called “Watching The English” by Kate Fox. Her view is that English conversations about the weather are a form of code devised to get us past our natural reserve. So: “Nice day, isn’t it?” is a ritual greeting that basically means hello rather than anything else!

    Reply
  7. I love the picture of Grady, Mary Jo! And so true about weather talk having a social function. There’s a wonderful chapter on this in a book called “Watching The English” by Kate Fox. Her view is that English conversations about the weather are a form of code devised to get us past our natural reserve. So: “Nice day, isn’t it?” is a ritual greeting that basically means hello rather than anything else!

    Reply
  8. I love the picture of Grady, Mary Jo! And so true about weather talk having a social function. There’s a wonderful chapter on this in a book called “Watching The English” by Kate Fox. Her view is that English conversations about the weather are a form of code devised to get us past our natural reserve. So: “Nice day, isn’t it?” is a ritual greeting that basically means hello rather than anything else!

    Reply
  9. I love the picture of Grady, Mary Jo! And so true about weather talk having a social function. There’s a wonderful chapter on this in a book called “Watching The English” by Kate Fox. Her view is that English conversations about the weather are a form of code devised to get us past our natural reserve. So: “Nice day, isn’t it?” is a ritual greeting that basically means hello rather than anything else!

    Reply
  10. I love the picture of Grady, Mary Jo! And so true about weather talk having a social function. There’s a wonderful chapter on this in a book called “Watching The English” by Kate Fox. Her view is that English conversations about the weather are a form of code devised to get us past our natural reserve. So: “Nice day, isn’t it?” is a ritual greeting that basically means hello rather than anything else!

    Reply
  11. I live in New England, and I like snow. I always did. Not that I like driving in it–I’ve done the 180 spin out, too. As for last week’s storm that clobbered D.C., we got barely a dusting.
    My favorite snow story involves wild turkeys. The turkeys have returned to our suburban area, and they show up in my yard from time to time. In Dec. 2007, we had a big snowstorm. As I watched my bird feeder, two tom turkeys (males) slogged around the side of the house. They helped themselves to the seed under the feeder.
    I looked out again a little later, and only one was left. He started up the hill–and got stuck. The snow was up to his belly, and he couldn’t move any farther. I thought he would backtrack along the trail he had broken. But he flew up into one of the big pine trees we have in the yard.
    I worried about him all night. Was he OK? Of course, he’s a professional wild animal, but I still worried. The next morning, I hear “gobble, gobble, gobble” and Mr. Turkey spread his big wings and flew down to the ground. A glaze had formed on the snow overnight, and he slipped and slid away. Turkeys still come to our yard, but I don’t know if this particular one returned. I can’t tell the turkeys apart.
    And I loved your story “The White Rose of Scotland” in “Chalice of Roses”.

    Reply
  12. I live in New England, and I like snow. I always did. Not that I like driving in it–I’ve done the 180 spin out, too. As for last week’s storm that clobbered D.C., we got barely a dusting.
    My favorite snow story involves wild turkeys. The turkeys have returned to our suburban area, and they show up in my yard from time to time. In Dec. 2007, we had a big snowstorm. As I watched my bird feeder, two tom turkeys (males) slogged around the side of the house. They helped themselves to the seed under the feeder.
    I looked out again a little later, and only one was left. He started up the hill–and got stuck. The snow was up to his belly, and he couldn’t move any farther. I thought he would backtrack along the trail he had broken. But he flew up into one of the big pine trees we have in the yard.
    I worried about him all night. Was he OK? Of course, he’s a professional wild animal, but I still worried. The next morning, I hear “gobble, gobble, gobble” and Mr. Turkey spread his big wings and flew down to the ground. A glaze had formed on the snow overnight, and he slipped and slid away. Turkeys still come to our yard, but I don’t know if this particular one returned. I can’t tell the turkeys apart.
    And I loved your story “The White Rose of Scotland” in “Chalice of Roses”.

    Reply
  13. I live in New England, and I like snow. I always did. Not that I like driving in it–I’ve done the 180 spin out, too. As for last week’s storm that clobbered D.C., we got barely a dusting.
    My favorite snow story involves wild turkeys. The turkeys have returned to our suburban area, and they show up in my yard from time to time. In Dec. 2007, we had a big snowstorm. As I watched my bird feeder, two tom turkeys (males) slogged around the side of the house. They helped themselves to the seed under the feeder.
    I looked out again a little later, and only one was left. He started up the hill–and got stuck. The snow was up to his belly, and he couldn’t move any farther. I thought he would backtrack along the trail he had broken. But he flew up into one of the big pine trees we have in the yard.
    I worried about him all night. Was he OK? Of course, he’s a professional wild animal, but I still worried. The next morning, I hear “gobble, gobble, gobble” and Mr. Turkey spread his big wings and flew down to the ground. A glaze had formed on the snow overnight, and he slipped and slid away. Turkeys still come to our yard, but I don’t know if this particular one returned. I can’t tell the turkeys apart.
    And I loved your story “The White Rose of Scotland” in “Chalice of Roses”.

    Reply
  14. I live in New England, and I like snow. I always did. Not that I like driving in it–I’ve done the 180 spin out, too. As for last week’s storm that clobbered D.C., we got barely a dusting.
    My favorite snow story involves wild turkeys. The turkeys have returned to our suburban area, and they show up in my yard from time to time. In Dec. 2007, we had a big snowstorm. As I watched my bird feeder, two tom turkeys (males) slogged around the side of the house. They helped themselves to the seed under the feeder.
    I looked out again a little later, and only one was left. He started up the hill–and got stuck. The snow was up to his belly, and he couldn’t move any farther. I thought he would backtrack along the trail he had broken. But he flew up into one of the big pine trees we have in the yard.
    I worried about him all night. Was he OK? Of course, he’s a professional wild animal, but I still worried. The next morning, I hear “gobble, gobble, gobble” and Mr. Turkey spread his big wings and flew down to the ground. A glaze had formed on the snow overnight, and he slipped and slid away. Turkeys still come to our yard, but I don’t know if this particular one returned. I can’t tell the turkeys apart.
    And I loved your story “The White Rose of Scotland” in “Chalice of Roses”.

    Reply
  15. I live in New England, and I like snow. I always did. Not that I like driving in it–I’ve done the 180 spin out, too. As for last week’s storm that clobbered D.C., we got barely a dusting.
    My favorite snow story involves wild turkeys. The turkeys have returned to our suburban area, and they show up in my yard from time to time. In Dec. 2007, we had a big snowstorm. As I watched my bird feeder, two tom turkeys (males) slogged around the side of the house. They helped themselves to the seed under the feeder.
    I looked out again a little later, and only one was left. He started up the hill–and got stuck. The snow was up to his belly, and he couldn’t move any farther. I thought he would backtrack along the trail he had broken. But he flew up into one of the big pine trees we have in the yard.
    I worried about him all night. Was he OK? Of course, he’s a professional wild animal, but I still worried. The next morning, I hear “gobble, gobble, gobble” and Mr. Turkey spread his big wings and flew down to the ground. A glaze had formed on the snow overnight, and he slipped and slid away. Turkeys still come to our yard, but I don’t know if this particular one returned. I can’t tell the turkeys apart.
    And I loved your story “The White Rose of Scotland” in “Chalice of Roses”.

    Reply
  16. I am still sort of buried. I am a teacher and have now had 14 snow days. With all that time I read the first 5 Willig books. Without power for 5 days though I understand cold English houses. We have a generator that runs a few overhead lights, the well pump, and the blower on the fireplace insert. Even with loading wood in both fireplaces every two hours, it was in the 40s inside.
    My DH is my true hero. He was in Florida and supposed to come home Friday. They rescheduled him to Saturday. He gave up his hotel room (not another to be had it was SuperBowl weekend) and went to the Orlando airport. Once there they told him flights were cancelled and he probably would not make it out until Tuesday. He got another rental car and drove 900 miles home. From Fredericksburg, VA north he was the only car except for snow plows. The closest he could get to our house was the last paved road. My son (jr. hero) broke a path through the 30″+ snow to meet him with a hat and flash lights (it is now midnight). It took them an hour to walk the half mile home. My husband was in dress khakis and a trench coat. I dried him off, piled him in bed under 2 blankets and a down comfortor. He spent the next 4 days on our tractor shoveling us out. Today is the first day I can get out in my car rather than the 4WD Jeep.
    I used to want to go back in time, not any more.

    Reply
  17. I am still sort of buried. I am a teacher and have now had 14 snow days. With all that time I read the first 5 Willig books. Without power for 5 days though I understand cold English houses. We have a generator that runs a few overhead lights, the well pump, and the blower on the fireplace insert. Even with loading wood in both fireplaces every two hours, it was in the 40s inside.
    My DH is my true hero. He was in Florida and supposed to come home Friday. They rescheduled him to Saturday. He gave up his hotel room (not another to be had it was SuperBowl weekend) and went to the Orlando airport. Once there they told him flights were cancelled and he probably would not make it out until Tuesday. He got another rental car and drove 900 miles home. From Fredericksburg, VA north he was the only car except for snow plows. The closest he could get to our house was the last paved road. My son (jr. hero) broke a path through the 30″+ snow to meet him with a hat and flash lights (it is now midnight). It took them an hour to walk the half mile home. My husband was in dress khakis and a trench coat. I dried him off, piled him in bed under 2 blankets and a down comfortor. He spent the next 4 days on our tractor shoveling us out. Today is the first day I can get out in my car rather than the 4WD Jeep.
    I used to want to go back in time, not any more.

    Reply
  18. I am still sort of buried. I am a teacher and have now had 14 snow days. With all that time I read the first 5 Willig books. Without power for 5 days though I understand cold English houses. We have a generator that runs a few overhead lights, the well pump, and the blower on the fireplace insert. Even with loading wood in both fireplaces every two hours, it was in the 40s inside.
    My DH is my true hero. He was in Florida and supposed to come home Friday. They rescheduled him to Saturday. He gave up his hotel room (not another to be had it was SuperBowl weekend) and went to the Orlando airport. Once there they told him flights were cancelled and he probably would not make it out until Tuesday. He got another rental car and drove 900 miles home. From Fredericksburg, VA north he was the only car except for snow plows. The closest he could get to our house was the last paved road. My son (jr. hero) broke a path through the 30″+ snow to meet him with a hat and flash lights (it is now midnight). It took them an hour to walk the half mile home. My husband was in dress khakis and a trench coat. I dried him off, piled him in bed under 2 blankets and a down comfortor. He spent the next 4 days on our tractor shoveling us out. Today is the first day I can get out in my car rather than the 4WD Jeep.
    I used to want to go back in time, not any more.

    Reply
  19. I am still sort of buried. I am a teacher and have now had 14 snow days. With all that time I read the first 5 Willig books. Without power for 5 days though I understand cold English houses. We have a generator that runs a few overhead lights, the well pump, and the blower on the fireplace insert. Even with loading wood in both fireplaces every two hours, it was in the 40s inside.
    My DH is my true hero. He was in Florida and supposed to come home Friday. They rescheduled him to Saturday. He gave up his hotel room (not another to be had it was SuperBowl weekend) and went to the Orlando airport. Once there they told him flights were cancelled and he probably would not make it out until Tuesday. He got another rental car and drove 900 miles home. From Fredericksburg, VA north he was the only car except for snow plows. The closest he could get to our house was the last paved road. My son (jr. hero) broke a path through the 30″+ snow to meet him with a hat and flash lights (it is now midnight). It took them an hour to walk the half mile home. My husband was in dress khakis and a trench coat. I dried him off, piled him in bed under 2 blankets and a down comfortor. He spent the next 4 days on our tractor shoveling us out. Today is the first day I can get out in my car rather than the 4WD Jeep.
    I used to want to go back in time, not any more.

    Reply
  20. I am still sort of buried. I am a teacher and have now had 14 snow days. With all that time I read the first 5 Willig books. Without power for 5 days though I understand cold English houses. We have a generator that runs a few overhead lights, the well pump, and the blower on the fireplace insert. Even with loading wood in both fireplaces every two hours, it was in the 40s inside.
    My DH is my true hero. He was in Florida and supposed to come home Friday. They rescheduled him to Saturday. He gave up his hotel room (not another to be had it was SuperBowl weekend) and went to the Orlando airport. Once there they told him flights were cancelled and he probably would not make it out until Tuesday. He got another rental car and drove 900 miles home. From Fredericksburg, VA north he was the only car except for snow plows. The closest he could get to our house was the last paved road. My son (jr. hero) broke a path through the 30″+ snow to meet him with a hat and flash lights (it is now midnight). It took them an hour to walk the half mile home. My husband was in dress khakis and a trench coat. I dried him off, piled him in bed under 2 blankets and a down comfortor. He spent the next 4 days on our tractor shoveling us out. Today is the first day I can get out in my car rather than the 4WD Jeep.
    I used to want to go back in time, not any more.

    Reply
  21. Great post, Mary Jo! So glad you and yours got out and then back safely. Where you able to get into your house when your returned or did it take a merry band of snow shovels to do the trick?
    I live about 35 miles north of Mary Jo, just over the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, check out this link. http://ulocal.wgal.com/_Voltan-trapped/photo/7787893/62692.html
    You’ll see Voltan, our 2 year old 70# German Shepherd, peering out into our front yard, the snow up to his ears. And that little hump in the middle of the picture… that’s our full-size 4wd suburban. Yup, we got some snow!
    During the second storm, our well pump went out. We were without water for nearly two days as we waited for the township to plow our road so our lawn service could get in and dig a path to our well-head. It two front end loaders to do it. Then, when the plumber arrived, he told us that the pump wasn’t the problem. The snow had become so heavy that the downward pressure on the well cap had compromised the wire. Easy fix. Loads of man hours.
    Nina, who enjoyed Chalice of Roses during The Storm

    Reply
  22. Great post, Mary Jo! So glad you and yours got out and then back safely. Where you able to get into your house when your returned or did it take a merry band of snow shovels to do the trick?
    I live about 35 miles north of Mary Jo, just over the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, check out this link. http://ulocal.wgal.com/_Voltan-trapped/photo/7787893/62692.html
    You’ll see Voltan, our 2 year old 70# German Shepherd, peering out into our front yard, the snow up to his ears. And that little hump in the middle of the picture… that’s our full-size 4wd suburban. Yup, we got some snow!
    During the second storm, our well pump went out. We were without water for nearly two days as we waited for the township to plow our road so our lawn service could get in and dig a path to our well-head. It two front end loaders to do it. Then, when the plumber arrived, he told us that the pump wasn’t the problem. The snow had become so heavy that the downward pressure on the well cap had compromised the wire. Easy fix. Loads of man hours.
    Nina, who enjoyed Chalice of Roses during The Storm

    Reply
  23. Great post, Mary Jo! So glad you and yours got out and then back safely. Where you able to get into your house when your returned or did it take a merry band of snow shovels to do the trick?
    I live about 35 miles north of Mary Jo, just over the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, check out this link. http://ulocal.wgal.com/_Voltan-trapped/photo/7787893/62692.html
    You’ll see Voltan, our 2 year old 70# German Shepherd, peering out into our front yard, the snow up to his ears. And that little hump in the middle of the picture… that’s our full-size 4wd suburban. Yup, we got some snow!
    During the second storm, our well pump went out. We were without water for nearly two days as we waited for the township to plow our road so our lawn service could get in and dig a path to our well-head. It two front end loaders to do it. Then, when the plumber arrived, he told us that the pump wasn’t the problem. The snow had become so heavy that the downward pressure on the well cap had compromised the wire. Easy fix. Loads of man hours.
    Nina, who enjoyed Chalice of Roses during The Storm

    Reply
  24. Great post, Mary Jo! So glad you and yours got out and then back safely. Where you able to get into your house when your returned or did it take a merry band of snow shovels to do the trick?
    I live about 35 miles north of Mary Jo, just over the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, check out this link. http://ulocal.wgal.com/_Voltan-trapped/photo/7787893/62692.html
    You’ll see Voltan, our 2 year old 70# German Shepherd, peering out into our front yard, the snow up to his ears. And that little hump in the middle of the picture… that’s our full-size 4wd suburban. Yup, we got some snow!
    During the second storm, our well pump went out. We were without water for nearly two days as we waited for the township to plow our road so our lawn service could get in and dig a path to our well-head. It two front end loaders to do it. Then, when the plumber arrived, he told us that the pump wasn’t the problem. The snow had become so heavy that the downward pressure on the well cap had compromised the wire. Easy fix. Loads of man hours.
    Nina, who enjoyed Chalice of Roses during The Storm

    Reply
  25. Great post, Mary Jo! So glad you and yours got out and then back safely. Where you able to get into your house when your returned or did it take a merry band of snow shovels to do the trick?
    I live about 35 miles north of Mary Jo, just over the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, check out this link. http://ulocal.wgal.com/_Voltan-trapped/photo/7787893/62692.html
    You’ll see Voltan, our 2 year old 70# German Shepherd, peering out into our front yard, the snow up to his ears. And that little hump in the middle of the picture… that’s our full-size 4wd suburban. Yup, we got some snow!
    During the second storm, our well pump went out. We were without water for nearly two days as we waited for the township to plow our road so our lawn service could get in and dig a path to our well-head. It two front end loaders to do it. Then, when the plumber arrived, he told us that the pump wasn’t the problem. The snow had become so heavy that the downward pressure on the well cap had compromised the wire. Easy fix. Loads of man hours.
    Nina, who enjoyed Chalice of Roses during The Storm

    Reply
  26. From MJP:
    Snow certainly does produce terrific horror stories! Patricia, I think you win first place, but Lyn’s story about her husband is a close second.
    I note Lyn’s mention of her husband’s dress khakis, so I think both of these stories are military? Pure proof that military families are truly intrepid! (I’m visualizing Patricia, husband, daughters, cat, and dog huddling together on one bed. That’s major togetherness!)
    Nicola, you’re so right about weather as ritual communication. *g* Where I grew up had a lot of that kind of reserve, but luckily the weather was a never ending source of polite conversation.
    Linda, LOL about your wild turkey, who was a ‘professional wild animal,’ but still went skidding on the icy crust of the snow. *g* I’m also tickled that you enjoyed my story in CHALICE OF ROSES. I loved doing it, both because it was a return to my Guardian world, and because of the WWII setting.

    Reply
  27. From MJP:
    Snow certainly does produce terrific horror stories! Patricia, I think you win first place, but Lyn’s story about her husband is a close second.
    I note Lyn’s mention of her husband’s dress khakis, so I think both of these stories are military? Pure proof that military families are truly intrepid! (I’m visualizing Patricia, husband, daughters, cat, and dog huddling together on one bed. That’s major togetherness!)
    Nicola, you’re so right about weather as ritual communication. *g* Where I grew up had a lot of that kind of reserve, but luckily the weather was a never ending source of polite conversation.
    Linda, LOL about your wild turkey, who was a ‘professional wild animal,’ but still went skidding on the icy crust of the snow. *g* I’m also tickled that you enjoyed my story in CHALICE OF ROSES. I loved doing it, both because it was a return to my Guardian world, and because of the WWII setting.

    Reply
  28. From MJP:
    Snow certainly does produce terrific horror stories! Patricia, I think you win first place, but Lyn’s story about her husband is a close second.
    I note Lyn’s mention of her husband’s dress khakis, so I think both of these stories are military? Pure proof that military families are truly intrepid! (I’m visualizing Patricia, husband, daughters, cat, and dog huddling together on one bed. That’s major togetherness!)
    Nicola, you’re so right about weather as ritual communication. *g* Where I grew up had a lot of that kind of reserve, but luckily the weather was a never ending source of polite conversation.
    Linda, LOL about your wild turkey, who was a ‘professional wild animal,’ but still went skidding on the icy crust of the snow. *g* I’m also tickled that you enjoyed my story in CHALICE OF ROSES. I loved doing it, both because it was a return to my Guardian world, and because of the WWII setting.

    Reply
  29. From MJP:
    Snow certainly does produce terrific horror stories! Patricia, I think you win first place, but Lyn’s story about her husband is a close second.
    I note Lyn’s mention of her husband’s dress khakis, so I think both of these stories are military? Pure proof that military families are truly intrepid! (I’m visualizing Patricia, husband, daughters, cat, and dog huddling together on one bed. That’s major togetherness!)
    Nicola, you’re so right about weather as ritual communication. *g* Where I grew up had a lot of that kind of reserve, but luckily the weather was a never ending source of polite conversation.
    Linda, LOL about your wild turkey, who was a ‘professional wild animal,’ but still went skidding on the icy crust of the snow. *g* I’m also tickled that you enjoyed my story in CHALICE OF ROSES. I loved doing it, both because it was a return to my Guardian world, and because of the WWII setting.

    Reply
  30. From MJP:
    Snow certainly does produce terrific horror stories! Patricia, I think you win first place, but Lyn’s story about her husband is a close second.
    I note Lyn’s mention of her husband’s dress khakis, so I think both of these stories are military? Pure proof that military families are truly intrepid! (I’m visualizing Patricia, husband, daughters, cat, and dog huddling together on one bed. That’s major togetherness!)
    Nicola, you’re so right about weather as ritual communication. *g* Where I grew up had a lot of that kind of reserve, but luckily the weather was a never ending source of polite conversation.
    Linda, LOL about your wild turkey, who was a ‘professional wild animal,’ but still went skidding on the icy crust of the snow. *g* I’m also tickled that you enjoyed my story in CHALICE OF ROSES. I loved doing it, both because it was a return to my Guardian world, and because of the WWII setting.

    Reply
  31. Actually my husband is retired military. He was wearing Dockers style khakis. They froze then cut his shins during the walk.
    I love how you honored the military in Chalice as well as your other books. I was so pleased you managed to continue the Guardians as part of the anthology. Chalice came in the mail in January with my textbooks. I read it the first weekend I had it. Willig’s books were my latest treat to read between research. Yes I know homework comes first, but sometimes you just gotta have romance.
    Glad everyone is safe and dug out. Stay warm.

    Reply
  32. Actually my husband is retired military. He was wearing Dockers style khakis. They froze then cut his shins during the walk.
    I love how you honored the military in Chalice as well as your other books. I was so pleased you managed to continue the Guardians as part of the anthology. Chalice came in the mail in January with my textbooks. I read it the first weekend I had it. Willig’s books were my latest treat to read between research. Yes I know homework comes first, but sometimes you just gotta have romance.
    Glad everyone is safe and dug out. Stay warm.

    Reply
  33. Actually my husband is retired military. He was wearing Dockers style khakis. They froze then cut his shins during the walk.
    I love how you honored the military in Chalice as well as your other books. I was so pleased you managed to continue the Guardians as part of the anthology. Chalice came in the mail in January with my textbooks. I read it the first weekend I had it. Willig’s books were my latest treat to read between research. Yes I know homework comes first, but sometimes you just gotta have romance.
    Glad everyone is safe and dug out. Stay warm.

    Reply
  34. Actually my husband is retired military. He was wearing Dockers style khakis. They froze then cut his shins during the walk.
    I love how you honored the military in Chalice as well as your other books. I was so pleased you managed to continue the Guardians as part of the anthology. Chalice came in the mail in January with my textbooks. I read it the first weekend I had it. Willig’s books were my latest treat to read between research. Yes I know homework comes first, but sometimes you just gotta have romance.
    Glad everyone is safe and dug out. Stay warm.

    Reply
  35. Actually my husband is retired military. He was wearing Dockers style khakis. They froze then cut his shins during the walk.
    I love how you honored the military in Chalice as well as your other books. I was so pleased you managed to continue the Guardians as part of the anthology. Chalice came in the mail in January with my textbooks. I read it the first weekend I had it. Willig’s books were my latest treat to read between research. Yes I know homework comes first, but sometimes you just gotta have romance.
    Glad everyone is safe and dug out. Stay warm.

    Reply
  36. My 24 y.o. son had open heart surgery just before the first storm, so we watched it from his room in Children’s Hospital (when you have a congenital heart defect, you still see a pediatric cardiologist even as an adult — Noah wasn’t even the oldest patient on the ward). I’d thought we might be able to go back and forth from the hospital to our house, but there was no way our sedan (or any other car) could handle the snow and the wind, so my husband and I both stayed with Noah in his room for the duration. He was discharged on the Sunday between the storms, so we made it safely home. While the ride wasn’t nearly as exciting as Pat or Lyn’s husband’s, I was very worried about hitting a patch of ice or driving into a snowdrift with Noah in such a fragile state. Thank heavens that the city has improved services dramatically over the past few years, and the streets on our route were quite reasonably well plowed. We were lucky that we never lost power and so stayed warm and safe in our house.
    To add insult to injury, however, both Noah and I got the stomach flu after we came home. I hate the flu with a passion, but for me it was simply a day of misery. We worried about Noah, that he might open his incision or become dehydrated, but luckily he suffered no complications. My own heart is full of gratitude to modern medicine and the wonderful staff at Children’s Hospital here in DC.

    Reply
  37. My 24 y.o. son had open heart surgery just before the first storm, so we watched it from his room in Children’s Hospital (when you have a congenital heart defect, you still see a pediatric cardiologist even as an adult — Noah wasn’t even the oldest patient on the ward). I’d thought we might be able to go back and forth from the hospital to our house, but there was no way our sedan (or any other car) could handle the snow and the wind, so my husband and I both stayed with Noah in his room for the duration. He was discharged on the Sunday between the storms, so we made it safely home. While the ride wasn’t nearly as exciting as Pat or Lyn’s husband’s, I was very worried about hitting a patch of ice or driving into a snowdrift with Noah in such a fragile state. Thank heavens that the city has improved services dramatically over the past few years, and the streets on our route were quite reasonably well plowed. We were lucky that we never lost power and so stayed warm and safe in our house.
    To add insult to injury, however, both Noah and I got the stomach flu after we came home. I hate the flu with a passion, but for me it was simply a day of misery. We worried about Noah, that he might open his incision or become dehydrated, but luckily he suffered no complications. My own heart is full of gratitude to modern medicine and the wonderful staff at Children’s Hospital here in DC.

    Reply
  38. My 24 y.o. son had open heart surgery just before the first storm, so we watched it from his room in Children’s Hospital (when you have a congenital heart defect, you still see a pediatric cardiologist even as an adult — Noah wasn’t even the oldest patient on the ward). I’d thought we might be able to go back and forth from the hospital to our house, but there was no way our sedan (or any other car) could handle the snow and the wind, so my husband and I both stayed with Noah in his room for the duration. He was discharged on the Sunday between the storms, so we made it safely home. While the ride wasn’t nearly as exciting as Pat or Lyn’s husband’s, I was very worried about hitting a patch of ice or driving into a snowdrift with Noah in such a fragile state. Thank heavens that the city has improved services dramatically over the past few years, and the streets on our route were quite reasonably well plowed. We were lucky that we never lost power and so stayed warm and safe in our house.
    To add insult to injury, however, both Noah and I got the stomach flu after we came home. I hate the flu with a passion, but for me it was simply a day of misery. We worried about Noah, that he might open his incision or become dehydrated, but luckily he suffered no complications. My own heart is full of gratitude to modern medicine and the wonderful staff at Children’s Hospital here in DC.

    Reply
  39. My 24 y.o. son had open heart surgery just before the first storm, so we watched it from his room in Children’s Hospital (when you have a congenital heart defect, you still see a pediatric cardiologist even as an adult — Noah wasn’t even the oldest patient on the ward). I’d thought we might be able to go back and forth from the hospital to our house, but there was no way our sedan (or any other car) could handle the snow and the wind, so my husband and I both stayed with Noah in his room for the duration. He was discharged on the Sunday between the storms, so we made it safely home. While the ride wasn’t nearly as exciting as Pat or Lyn’s husband’s, I was very worried about hitting a patch of ice or driving into a snowdrift with Noah in such a fragile state. Thank heavens that the city has improved services dramatically over the past few years, and the streets on our route were quite reasonably well plowed. We were lucky that we never lost power and so stayed warm and safe in our house.
    To add insult to injury, however, both Noah and I got the stomach flu after we came home. I hate the flu with a passion, but for me it was simply a day of misery. We worried about Noah, that he might open his incision or become dehydrated, but luckily he suffered no complications. My own heart is full of gratitude to modern medicine and the wonderful staff at Children’s Hospital here in DC.

    Reply
  40. My 24 y.o. son had open heart surgery just before the first storm, so we watched it from his room in Children’s Hospital (when you have a congenital heart defect, you still see a pediatric cardiologist even as an adult — Noah wasn’t even the oldest patient on the ward). I’d thought we might be able to go back and forth from the hospital to our house, but there was no way our sedan (or any other car) could handle the snow and the wind, so my husband and I both stayed with Noah in his room for the duration. He was discharged on the Sunday between the storms, so we made it safely home. While the ride wasn’t nearly as exciting as Pat or Lyn’s husband’s, I was very worried about hitting a patch of ice or driving into a snowdrift with Noah in such a fragile state. Thank heavens that the city has improved services dramatically over the past few years, and the streets on our route were quite reasonably well plowed. We were lucky that we never lost power and so stayed warm and safe in our house.
    To add insult to injury, however, both Noah and I got the stomach flu after we came home. I hate the flu with a passion, but for me it was simply a day of misery. We worried about Noah, that he might open his incision or become dehydrated, but luckily he suffered no complications. My own heart is full of gratitude to modern medicine and the wonderful staff at Children’s Hospital here in DC.

    Reply
  41. All your weather war stories make me realize that mine are minor skirmishes in comparison. When we get enough snow in central Georgia for kids to build snowmen/snowwomen and have snowball fights, it’s a holiday. We had five of the grands for a sleepover Saturday (two were missing because of the ice on roads)to celebrate the sixth birthday of one, and the snow was the best gift of all.
    But the dangers of icy roads and the problems that come with loss of power are no laughing matter. Transplants from more northerly climes tease us about our grocery store and gas station runs at the first suggestion of snow. But we are not equipped individually or collectively for snow and ice. It doesn’t take much to paralyze a city. Just ask some of those commuters who were stuck on Georgia 400 until after midnight Friday.

    Reply
  42. All your weather war stories make me realize that mine are minor skirmishes in comparison. When we get enough snow in central Georgia for kids to build snowmen/snowwomen and have snowball fights, it’s a holiday. We had five of the grands for a sleepover Saturday (two were missing because of the ice on roads)to celebrate the sixth birthday of one, and the snow was the best gift of all.
    But the dangers of icy roads and the problems that come with loss of power are no laughing matter. Transplants from more northerly climes tease us about our grocery store and gas station runs at the first suggestion of snow. But we are not equipped individually or collectively for snow and ice. It doesn’t take much to paralyze a city. Just ask some of those commuters who were stuck on Georgia 400 until after midnight Friday.

    Reply
  43. All your weather war stories make me realize that mine are minor skirmishes in comparison. When we get enough snow in central Georgia for kids to build snowmen/snowwomen and have snowball fights, it’s a holiday. We had five of the grands for a sleepover Saturday (two were missing because of the ice on roads)to celebrate the sixth birthday of one, and the snow was the best gift of all.
    But the dangers of icy roads and the problems that come with loss of power are no laughing matter. Transplants from more northerly climes tease us about our grocery store and gas station runs at the first suggestion of snow. But we are not equipped individually or collectively for snow and ice. It doesn’t take much to paralyze a city. Just ask some of those commuters who were stuck on Georgia 400 until after midnight Friday.

    Reply
  44. All your weather war stories make me realize that mine are minor skirmishes in comparison. When we get enough snow in central Georgia for kids to build snowmen/snowwomen and have snowball fights, it’s a holiday. We had five of the grands for a sleepover Saturday (two were missing because of the ice on roads)to celebrate the sixth birthday of one, and the snow was the best gift of all.
    But the dangers of icy roads and the problems that come with loss of power are no laughing matter. Transplants from more northerly climes tease us about our grocery store and gas station runs at the first suggestion of snow. But we are not equipped individually or collectively for snow and ice. It doesn’t take much to paralyze a city. Just ask some of those commuters who were stuck on Georgia 400 until after midnight Friday.

    Reply
  45. All your weather war stories make me realize that mine are minor skirmishes in comparison. When we get enough snow in central Georgia for kids to build snowmen/snowwomen and have snowball fights, it’s a holiday. We had five of the grands for a sleepover Saturday (two were missing because of the ice on roads)to celebrate the sixth birthday of one, and the snow was the best gift of all.
    But the dangers of icy roads and the problems that come with loss of power are no laughing matter. Transplants from more northerly climes tease us about our grocery store and gas station runs at the first suggestion of snow. But we are not equipped individually or collectively for snow and ice. It doesn’t take much to paralyze a city. Just ask some of those commuters who were stuck on Georgia 400 until after midnight Friday.

    Reply
  46. I have to say, while I like snow, I am heartily sick of winter! (Am staring out of my writing room at 6 fresh inches—Yes, yes I know, paltry compared to Washington but it just feels like it’s been freezing for months in CT)
    However, I do seem to remember getting WAY more snow when I was growing up. One January we had so much that school closed for nearly a week, and my older brother and his friend built a very sophisticated toboggan run, complete with huge banked turns, down the long hill behind our house. It was so fun that my parents threw a big party for their friends, complete with timed races and lots of hot buttered rum. (Cocoa for the kids, drat it all) So I do have some warm and fuzzy feelings for winter. Just not at present.
    (P.S. Your deer and pines could be twins of mine!)

    Reply
  47. I have to say, while I like snow, I am heartily sick of winter! (Am staring out of my writing room at 6 fresh inches—Yes, yes I know, paltry compared to Washington but it just feels like it’s been freezing for months in CT)
    However, I do seem to remember getting WAY more snow when I was growing up. One January we had so much that school closed for nearly a week, and my older brother and his friend built a very sophisticated toboggan run, complete with huge banked turns, down the long hill behind our house. It was so fun that my parents threw a big party for their friends, complete with timed races and lots of hot buttered rum. (Cocoa for the kids, drat it all) So I do have some warm and fuzzy feelings for winter. Just not at present.
    (P.S. Your deer and pines could be twins of mine!)

    Reply
  48. I have to say, while I like snow, I am heartily sick of winter! (Am staring out of my writing room at 6 fresh inches—Yes, yes I know, paltry compared to Washington but it just feels like it’s been freezing for months in CT)
    However, I do seem to remember getting WAY more snow when I was growing up. One January we had so much that school closed for nearly a week, and my older brother and his friend built a very sophisticated toboggan run, complete with huge banked turns, down the long hill behind our house. It was so fun that my parents threw a big party for their friends, complete with timed races and lots of hot buttered rum. (Cocoa for the kids, drat it all) So I do have some warm and fuzzy feelings for winter. Just not at present.
    (P.S. Your deer and pines could be twins of mine!)

    Reply
  49. I have to say, while I like snow, I am heartily sick of winter! (Am staring out of my writing room at 6 fresh inches—Yes, yes I know, paltry compared to Washington but it just feels like it’s been freezing for months in CT)
    However, I do seem to remember getting WAY more snow when I was growing up. One January we had so much that school closed for nearly a week, and my older brother and his friend built a very sophisticated toboggan run, complete with huge banked turns, down the long hill behind our house. It was so fun that my parents threw a big party for their friends, complete with timed races and lots of hot buttered rum. (Cocoa for the kids, drat it all) So I do have some warm and fuzzy feelings for winter. Just not at present.
    (P.S. Your deer and pines could be twins of mine!)

    Reply
  50. I have to say, while I like snow, I am heartily sick of winter! (Am staring out of my writing room at 6 fresh inches—Yes, yes I know, paltry compared to Washington but it just feels like it’s been freezing for months in CT)
    However, I do seem to remember getting WAY more snow when I was growing up. One January we had so much that school closed for nearly a week, and my older brother and his friend built a very sophisticated toboggan run, complete with huge banked turns, down the long hill behind our house. It was so fun that my parents threw a big party for their friends, complete with timed races and lots of hot buttered rum. (Cocoa for the kids, drat it all) So I do have some warm and fuzzy feelings for winter. Just not at present.
    (P.S. Your deer and pines could be twins of mine!)

    Reply
  51. While I admire everyone’s heroism in the face of blizzards, and I’ve done the frozen well and no electricity for a week bit, I have no desire whatsoever to see another flake fall ever again. Of course, I say this as still another snow cloud moves over. Our snow doesn’t compare to the East, but it’s been twenty degrees below normal since Christmas and nearly every day brings more snow. I’m ready for spring!

    Reply
  52. While I admire everyone’s heroism in the face of blizzards, and I’ve done the frozen well and no electricity for a week bit, I have no desire whatsoever to see another flake fall ever again. Of course, I say this as still another snow cloud moves over. Our snow doesn’t compare to the East, but it’s been twenty degrees below normal since Christmas and nearly every day brings more snow. I’m ready for spring!

    Reply
  53. While I admire everyone’s heroism in the face of blizzards, and I’ve done the frozen well and no electricity for a week bit, I have no desire whatsoever to see another flake fall ever again. Of course, I say this as still another snow cloud moves over. Our snow doesn’t compare to the East, but it’s been twenty degrees below normal since Christmas and nearly every day brings more snow. I’m ready for spring!

    Reply
  54. While I admire everyone’s heroism in the face of blizzards, and I’ve done the frozen well and no electricity for a week bit, I have no desire whatsoever to see another flake fall ever again. Of course, I say this as still another snow cloud moves over. Our snow doesn’t compare to the East, but it’s been twenty degrees below normal since Christmas and nearly every day brings more snow. I’m ready for spring!

    Reply
  55. While I admire everyone’s heroism in the face of blizzards, and I’ve done the frozen well and no electricity for a week bit, I have no desire whatsoever to see another flake fall ever again. Of course, I say this as still another snow cloud moves over. Our snow doesn’t compare to the East, but it’s been twenty degrees below normal since Christmas and nearly every day brings more snow. I’m ready for spring!

    Reply
  56. From MJP:
    Nina, I’m lucky that my little community association pays to have the road and driveways plowed, though I’m not looking forward to the supplemental payment we’ll have to kick in. But it was great to come home and have no trouble getting in through the garage.
    My front walk was another matter–long and stepped, the only way to clear it was shoveling, which I just finished today. I only cleared a shovel’s width, but that’s enough to give the sun a chance. Otherwise the front walk might have been impassible for weeks more.
    Lyn, I have a tremendous respect for the men and women who serve. Early in Word Wench days, I had a guest blogger, Kim Lowe, former Air Force captain, now a military wife and major in the reserves. Kim did a wonderful piece on the Sisterhood of the Service. Here’s the link if you haven’t read it:
    http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2007/03/sisterhood_of_t.html
    Military people make great heroes and heroines!

    Reply
  57. From MJP:
    Nina, I’m lucky that my little community association pays to have the road and driveways plowed, though I’m not looking forward to the supplemental payment we’ll have to kick in. But it was great to come home and have no trouble getting in through the garage.
    My front walk was another matter–long and stepped, the only way to clear it was shoveling, which I just finished today. I only cleared a shovel’s width, but that’s enough to give the sun a chance. Otherwise the front walk might have been impassible for weeks more.
    Lyn, I have a tremendous respect for the men and women who serve. Early in Word Wench days, I had a guest blogger, Kim Lowe, former Air Force captain, now a military wife and major in the reserves. Kim did a wonderful piece on the Sisterhood of the Service. Here’s the link if you haven’t read it:
    http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2007/03/sisterhood_of_t.html
    Military people make great heroes and heroines!

    Reply
  58. From MJP:
    Nina, I’m lucky that my little community association pays to have the road and driveways plowed, though I’m not looking forward to the supplemental payment we’ll have to kick in. But it was great to come home and have no trouble getting in through the garage.
    My front walk was another matter–long and stepped, the only way to clear it was shoveling, which I just finished today. I only cleared a shovel’s width, but that’s enough to give the sun a chance. Otherwise the front walk might have been impassible for weeks more.
    Lyn, I have a tremendous respect for the men and women who serve. Early in Word Wench days, I had a guest blogger, Kim Lowe, former Air Force captain, now a military wife and major in the reserves. Kim did a wonderful piece on the Sisterhood of the Service. Here’s the link if you haven’t read it:
    http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2007/03/sisterhood_of_t.html
    Military people make great heroes and heroines!

    Reply
  59. From MJP:
    Nina, I’m lucky that my little community association pays to have the road and driveways plowed, though I’m not looking forward to the supplemental payment we’ll have to kick in. But it was great to come home and have no trouble getting in through the garage.
    My front walk was another matter–long and stepped, the only way to clear it was shoveling, which I just finished today. I only cleared a shovel’s width, but that’s enough to give the sun a chance. Otherwise the front walk might have been impassible for weeks more.
    Lyn, I have a tremendous respect for the men and women who serve. Early in Word Wench days, I had a guest blogger, Kim Lowe, former Air Force captain, now a military wife and major in the reserves. Kim did a wonderful piece on the Sisterhood of the Service. Here’s the link if you haven’t read it:
    http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2007/03/sisterhood_of_t.html
    Military people make great heroes and heroines!

    Reply
  60. From MJP:
    Nina, I’m lucky that my little community association pays to have the road and driveways plowed, though I’m not looking forward to the supplemental payment we’ll have to kick in. But it was great to come home and have no trouble getting in through the garage.
    My front walk was another matter–long and stepped, the only way to clear it was shoveling, which I just finished today. I only cleared a shovel’s width, but that’s enough to give the sun a chance. Otherwise the front walk might have been impassible for weeks more.
    Lyn, I have a tremendous respect for the men and women who serve. Early in Word Wench days, I had a guest blogger, Kim Lowe, former Air Force captain, now a military wife and major in the reserves. Kim did a wonderful piece on the Sisterhood of the Service. Here’s the link if you haven’t read it:
    http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2007/03/sisterhood_of_t.html
    Military people make great heroes and heroines!

    Reply
  61. MJP again:
    Susan/DC, your weather story is harrowing in a whole different way! I’m so glad your son came through the surgery, the snow, and the flu, so well. It’s truly amazing what can be done by doctors these days.
    Janga, I was tempted to curl my lip when The Weather Channel went from the huge amount of snow in the Mid-Atlantic to matching hysterics over a few inches in the South, but I know just how treacherous even modest snows are when an area isn’t set up to deal with it. Some of the scariest driving I’ve done has been when there was just a little snow or ice, but it was insanely slippery. So, you have my sympathies.
    Cara. it sounds like you lived in a winter wonderland as a kid! And if you need any more deer to stock your woods, we have plenty to spare. *g*
    Pat, 20 degrees below average is enough to get anyone looking at real estate listings in the Sun Belt.
    One thing for sure–when spring comes this year, we’ll appreciate it for the miracles it is!

    Reply
  62. MJP again:
    Susan/DC, your weather story is harrowing in a whole different way! I’m so glad your son came through the surgery, the snow, and the flu, so well. It’s truly amazing what can be done by doctors these days.
    Janga, I was tempted to curl my lip when The Weather Channel went from the huge amount of snow in the Mid-Atlantic to matching hysterics over a few inches in the South, but I know just how treacherous even modest snows are when an area isn’t set up to deal with it. Some of the scariest driving I’ve done has been when there was just a little snow or ice, but it was insanely slippery. So, you have my sympathies.
    Cara. it sounds like you lived in a winter wonderland as a kid! And if you need any more deer to stock your woods, we have plenty to spare. *g*
    Pat, 20 degrees below average is enough to get anyone looking at real estate listings in the Sun Belt.
    One thing for sure–when spring comes this year, we’ll appreciate it for the miracles it is!

    Reply
  63. MJP again:
    Susan/DC, your weather story is harrowing in a whole different way! I’m so glad your son came through the surgery, the snow, and the flu, so well. It’s truly amazing what can be done by doctors these days.
    Janga, I was tempted to curl my lip when The Weather Channel went from the huge amount of snow in the Mid-Atlantic to matching hysterics over a few inches in the South, but I know just how treacherous even modest snows are when an area isn’t set up to deal with it. Some of the scariest driving I’ve done has been when there was just a little snow or ice, but it was insanely slippery. So, you have my sympathies.
    Cara. it sounds like you lived in a winter wonderland as a kid! And if you need any more deer to stock your woods, we have plenty to spare. *g*
    Pat, 20 degrees below average is enough to get anyone looking at real estate listings in the Sun Belt.
    One thing for sure–when spring comes this year, we’ll appreciate it for the miracles it is!

    Reply
  64. MJP again:
    Susan/DC, your weather story is harrowing in a whole different way! I’m so glad your son came through the surgery, the snow, and the flu, so well. It’s truly amazing what can be done by doctors these days.
    Janga, I was tempted to curl my lip when The Weather Channel went from the huge amount of snow in the Mid-Atlantic to matching hysterics over a few inches in the South, but I know just how treacherous even modest snows are when an area isn’t set up to deal with it. Some of the scariest driving I’ve done has been when there was just a little snow or ice, but it was insanely slippery. So, you have my sympathies.
    Cara. it sounds like you lived in a winter wonderland as a kid! And if you need any more deer to stock your woods, we have plenty to spare. *g*
    Pat, 20 degrees below average is enough to get anyone looking at real estate listings in the Sun Belt.
    One thing for sure–when spring comes this year, we’ll appreciate it for the miracles it is!

    Reply
  65. MJP again:
    Susan/DC, your weather story is harrowing in a whole different way! I’m so glad your son came through the surgery, the snow, and the flu, so well. It’s truly amazing what can be done by doctors these days.
    Janga, I was tempted to curl my lip when The Weather Channel went from the huge amount of snow in the Mid-Atlantic to matching hysterics over a few inches in the South, but I know just how treacherous even modest snows are when an area isn’t set up to deal with it. Some of the scariest driving I’ve done has been when there was just a little snow or ice, but it was insanely slippery. So, you have my sympathies.
    Cara. it sounds like you lived in a winter wonderland as a kid! And if you need any more deer to stock your woods, we have plenty to spare. *g*
    Pat, 20 degrees below average is enough to get anyone looking at real estate listings in the Sun Belt.
    One thing for sure–when spring comes this year, we’ll appreciate it for the miracles it is!

    Reply
  66. The Winter of ’77 in Buffalo did me in as far as liking snow goes. I told my soon husband-to-be that I would not mind only seeing snow from 8 p.m. to midnight on Christmas Eve from then on. And he obliged me by first moving to the San Francisco area and then, 20 years ago, here to Houston.
    And we did get that lovely snowfall one Christmas Eve about 10 years ago.
    This year has been wet and cold and nasty down here. But I’m thankful that there’s been no ice or snow.

    Reply
  67. The Winter of ’77 in Buffalo did me in as far as liking snow goes. I told my soon husband-to-be that I would not mind only seeing snow from 8 p.m. to midnight on Christmas Eve from then on. And he obliged me by first moving to the San Francisco area and then, 20 years ago, here to Houston.
    And we did get that lovely snowfall one Christmas Eve about 10 years ago.
    This year has been wet and cold and nasty down here. But I’m thankful that there’s been no ice or snow.

    Reply
  68. The Winter of ’77 in Buffalo did me in as far as liking snow goes. I told my soon husband-to-be that I would not mind only seeing snow from 8 p.m. to midnight on Christmas Eve from then on. And he obliged me by first moving to the San Francisco area and then, 20 years ago, here to Houston.
    And we did get that lovely snowfall one Christmas Eve about 10 years ago.
    This year has been wet and cold and nasty down here. But I’m thankful that there’s been no ice or snow.

    Reply
  69. The Winter of ’77 in Buffalo did me in as far as liking snow goes. I told my soon husband-to-be that I would not mind only seeing snow from 8 p.m. to midnight on Christmas Eve from then on. And he obliged me by first moving to the San Francisco area and then, 20 years ago, here to Houston.
    And we did get that lovely snowfall one Christmas Eve about 10 years ago.
    This year has been wet and cold and nasty down here. But I’m thankful that there’s been no ice or snow.

    Reply
  70. The Winter of ’77 in Buffalo did me in as far as liking snow goes. I told my soon husband-to-be that I would not mind only seeing snow from 8 p.m. to midnight on Christmas Eve from then on. And he obliged me by first moving to the San Francisco area and then, 20 years ago, here to Houston.
    And we did get that lovely snowfall one Christmas Eve about 10 years ago.
    This year has been wet and cold and nasty down here. But I’m thankful that there’s been no ice or snow.

    Reply
  71. Sherrie, here. Was it Mark Twain who said, “If it weren’t for the weather, we’d have nothing to talk about”? Or maybe it was, “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” *g* I am thoroughly enjoying everyone’s war stories about the weather.
    Here in the Pacific NW we are having unseasonably balmy weather with lots of sunshine. Hearing all your snow stories makes me doubly grateful that I was able to do two loads of laundry today and hang them on the line to dry. Tonight I get to sleep on fragrant, sun dried, wind whipped sheets. I have a basket of folded laundry sitting beside my desk and I’m kind of embarrassed to say I put it there because I love the sunshiny smell emanating from the laundry.
    Like the rest of you, however, I’m sick of winter and can’t wait for spring to arrive. In fact, I went outside and cut some pussywillow branches and brought them inside, to remind me that spring is just a few weeks away. I’ve also been poring over seed catalogues and lusting over the veggies and flowers. I’m going to double the size of my garden and grow a bigger variety of veggies, thanks to Mary Jo, who put me onto Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Mary Jo, I’ll be forever grateful to you for recommending that book. Because of that book, I’ve even learned how to make cheese.)

    Reply
  72. Sherrie, here. Was it Mark Twain who said, “If it weren’t for the weather, we’d have nothing to talk about”? Or maybe it was, “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” *g* I am thoroughly enjoying everyone’s war stories about the weather.
    Here in the Pacific NW we are having unseasonably balmy weather with lots of sunshine. Hearing all your snow stories makes me doubly grateful that I was able to do two loads of laundry today and hang them on the line to dry. Tonight I get to sleep on fragrant, sun dried, wind whipped sheets. I have a basket of folded laundry sitting beside my desk and I’m kind of embarrassed to say I put it there because I love the sunshiny smell emanating from the laundry.
    Like the rest of you, however, I’m sick of winter and can’t wait for spring to arrive. In fact, I went outside and cut some pussywillow branches and brought them inside, to remind me that spring is just a few weeks away. I’ve also been poring over seed catalogues and lusting over the veggies and flowers. I’m going to double the size of my garden and grow a bigger variety of veggies, thanks to Mary Jo, who put me onto Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Mary Jo, I’ll be forever grateful to you for recommending that book. Because of that book, I’ve even learned how to make cheese.)

    Reply
  73. Sherrie, here. Was it Mark Twain who said, “If it weren’t for the weather, we’d have nothing to talk about”? Or maybe it was, “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” *g* I am thoroughly enjoying everyone’s war stories about the weather.
    Here in the Pacific NW we are having unseasonably balmy weather with lots of sunshine. Hearing all your snow stories makes me doubly grateful that I was able to do two loads of laundry today and hang them on the line to dry. Tonight I get to sleep on fragrant, sun dried, wind whipped sheets. I have a basket of folded laundry sitting beside my desk and I’m kind of embarrassed to say I put it there because I love the sunshiny smell emanating from the laundry.
    Like the rest of you, however, I’m sick of winter and can’t wait for spring to arrive. In fact, I went outside and cut some pussywillow branches and brought them inside, to remind me that spring is just a few weeks away. I’ve also been poring over seed catalogues and lusting over the veggies and flowers. I’m going to double the size of my garden and grow a bigger variety of veggies, thanks to Mary Jo, who put me onto Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Mary Jo, I’ll be forever grateful to you for recommending that book. Because of that book, I’ve even learned how to make cheese.)

    Reply
  74. Sherrie, here. Was it Mark Twain who said, “If it weren’t for the weather, we’d have nothing to talk about”? Or maybe it was, “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” *g* I am thoroughly enjoying everyone’s war stories about the weather.
    Here in the Pacific NW we are having unseasonably balmy weather with lots of sunshine. Hearing all your snow stories makes me doubly grateful that I was able to do two loads of laundry today and hang them on the line to dry. Tonight I get to sleep on fragrant, sun dried, wind whipped sheets. I have a basket of folded laundry sitting beside my desk and I’m kind of embarrassed to say I put it there because I love the sunshiny smell emanating from the laundry.
    Like the rest of you, however, I’m sick of winter and can’t wait for spring to arrive. In fact, I went outside and cut some pussywillow branches and brought them inside, to remind me that spring is just a few weeks away. I’ve also been poring over seed catalogues and lusting over the veggies and flowers. I’m going to double the size of my garden and grow a bigger variety of veggies, thanks to Mary Jo, who put me onto Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Mary Jo, I’ll be forever grateful to you for recommending that book. Because of that book, I’ve even learned how to make cheese.)

    Reply
  75. Sherrie, here. Was it Mark Twain who said, “If it weren’t for the weather, we’d have nothing to talk about”? Or maybe it was, “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” *g* I am thoroughly enjoying everyone’s war stories about the weather.
    Here in the Pacific NW we are having unseasonably balmy weather with lots of sunshine. Hearing all your snow stories makes me doubly grateful that I was able to do two loads of laundry today and hang them on the line to dry. Tonight I get to sleep on fragrant, sun dried, wind whipped sheets. I have a basket of folded laundry sitting beside my desk and I’m kind of embarrassed to say I put it there because I love the sunshiny smell emanating from the laundry.
    Like the rest of you, however, I’m sick of winter and can’t wait for spring to arrive. In fact, I went outside and cut some pussywillow branches and brought them inside, to remind me that spring is just a few weeks away. I’ve also been poring over seed catalogues and lusting over the veggies and flowers. I’m going to double the size of my garden and grow a bigger variety of veggies, thanks to Mary Jo, who put me onto Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Mary Jo, I’ll be forever grateful to you for recommending that book. Because of that book, I’ve even learned how to make cheese.)

    Reply
  76. P.S. Meant to tell you about the time it snowed and my cat refused to go outside to do his business because it was so deep. After awhile, I got exasperated with him constantly whining to be let out, only to turn tail and run when I opened the door and he saw all that snow. After several hours of this nonsense I picked him up, opened the door, and tossed him out. I swear to God, that cat did an about-face in midair and somehow boomeranged back into the house without touching the ground. To this day I don’t know how he did that.

    Reply
  77. P.S. Meant to tell you about the time it snowed and my cat refused to go outside to do his business because it was so deep. After awhile, I got exasperated with him constantly whining to be let out, only to turn tail and run when I opened the door and he saw all that snow. After several hours of this nonsense I picked him up, opened the door, and tossed him out. I swear to God, that cat did an about-face in midair and somehow boomeranged back into the house without touching the ground. To this day I don’t know how he did that.

    Reply
  78. P.S. Meant to tell you about the time it snowed and my cat refused to go outside to do his business because it was so deep. After awhile, I got exasperated with him constantly whining to be let out, only to turn tail and run when I opened the door and he saw all that snow. After several hours of this nonsense I picked him up, opened the door, and tossed him out. I swear to God, that cat did an about-face in midair and somehow boomeranged back into the house without touching the ground. To this day I don’t know how he did that.

    Reply
  79. P.S. Meant to tell you about the time it snowed and my cat refused to go outside to do his business because it was so deep. After awhile, I got exasperated with him constantly whining to be let out, only to turn tail and run when I opened the door and he saw all that snow. After several hours of this nonsense I picked him up, opened the door, and tossed him out. I swear to God, that cat did an about-face in midair and somehow boomeranged back into the house without touching the ground. To this day I don’t know how he did that.

    Reply
  80. P.S. Meant to tell you about the time it snowed and my cat refused to go outside to do his business because it was so deep. After awhile, I got exasperated with him constantly whining to be let out, only to turn tail and run when I opened the door and he saw all that snow. After several hours of this nonsense I picked him up, opened the door, and tossed him out. I swear to God, that cat did an about-face in midair and somehow boomeranged back into the house without touching the ground. To this day I don’t know how he did that.

    Reply
  81. Thank you, Mary Jo, for posting the pictures, including the deer! They remind me of my house/street on Fort Meade (near the Baltimore Airport). We spent 4 years shoveling snow and sledding down the few hills. But we moved to Hawaii last summer, giving away our shovel and sled. Hawaii was the only state to not have snow, even atop Mauna Kea (Hawaiian for white mountain), which can offer tropical skiing when the conditions are right (http://www.bestplaceshawaii.com/tips/big_kahuna/ski.html).
    While the warm sun and blue seas are inspirational, we do have Furlough Fridays, 4 lane backups through Honolulu, and VOG (fog like volcanic ash that impairs everyone’s breathing). So enjoy the winter wonderland – it is beautiful!

    Reply
  82. Thank you, Mary Jo, for posting the pictures, including the deer! They remind me of my house/street on Fort Meade (near the Baltimore Airport). We spent 4 years shoveling snow and sledding down the few hills. But we moved to Hawaii last summer, giving away our shovel and sled. Hawaii was the only state to not have snow, even atop Mauna Kea (Hawaiian for white mountain), which can offer tropical skiing when the conditions are right (http://www.bestplaceshawaii.com/tips/big_kahuna/ski.html).
    While the warm sun and blue seas are inspirational, we do have Furlough Fridays, 4 lane backups through Honolulu, and VOG (fog like volcanic ash that impairs everyone’s breathing). So enjoy the winter wonderland – it is beautiful!

    Reply
  83. Thank you, Mary Jo, for posting the pictures, including the deer! They remind me of my house/street on Fort Meade (near the Baltimore Airport). We spent 4 years shoveling snow and sledding down the few hills. But we moved to Hawaii last summer, giving away our shovel and sled. Hawaii was the only state to not have snow, even atop Mauna Kea (Hawaiian for white mountain), which can offer tropical skiing when the conditions are right (http://www.bestplaceshawaii.com/tips/big_kahuna/ski.html).
    While the warm sun and blue seas are inspirational, we do have Furlough Fridays, 4 lane backups through Honolulu, and VOG (fog like volcanic ash that impairs everyone’s breathing). So enjoy the winter wonderland – it is beautiful!

    Reply
  84. Thank you, Mary Jo, for posting the pictures, including the deer! They remind me of my house/street on Fort Meade (near the Baltimore Airport). We spent 4 years shoveling snow and sledding down the few hills. But we moved to Hawaii last summer, giving away our shovel and sled. Hawaii was the only state to not have snow, even atop Mauna Kea (Hawaiian for white mountain), which can offer tropical skiing when the conditions are right (http://www.bestplaceshawaii.com/tips/big_kahuna/ski.html).
    While the warm sun and blue seas are inspirational, we do have Furlough Fridays, 4 lane backups through Honolulu, and VOG (fog like volcanic ash that impairs everyone’s breathing). So enjoy the winter wonderland – it is beautiful!

    Reply
  85. Thank you, Mary Jo, for posting the pictures, including the deer! They remind me of my house/street on Fort Meade (near the Baltimore Airport). We spent 4 years shoveling snow and sledding down the few hills. But we moved to Hawaii last summer, giving away our shovel and sled. Hawaii was the only state to not have snow, even atop Mauna Kea (Hawaiian for white mountain), which can offer tropical skiing when the conditions are right (http://www.bestplaceshawaii.com/tips/big_kahuna/ski.html).
    While the warm sun and blue seas are inspirational, we do have Furlough Fridays, 4 lane backups through Honolulu, and VOG (fog like volcanic ash that impairs everyone’s breathing). So enjoy the winter wonderland – it is beautiful!

    Reply
  86. From MJP:
    Hi, Kim, thanks for stopping by to see what you’re missing by not being in Maryland now. The snow is beautiful, but I’ll admit that I was thinking of you in Hawaii. Except for the traffic jams and the VOG, of course!
    Sherrie, a gold medal to your cat for ‘mid-air boomerang snow avoidance.” *g*
    I’m glad you’re enjoying Barbara Kingsolver’s book so much. Great stuff in there!

    Reply
  87. From MJP:
    Hi, Kim, thanks for stopping by to see what you’re missing by not being in Maryland now. The snow is beautiful, but I’ll admit that I was thinking of you in Hawaii. Except for the traffic jams and the VOG, of course!
    Sherrie, a gold medal to your cat for ‘mid-air boomerang snow avoidance.” *g*
    I’m glad you’re enjoying Barbara Kingsolver’s book so much. Great stuff in there!

    Reply
  88. From MJP:
    Hi, Kim, thanks for stopping by to see what you’re missing by not being in Maryland now. The snow is beautiful, but I’ll admit that I was thinking of you in Hawaii. Except for the traffic jams and the VOG, of course!
    Sherrie, a gold medal to your cat for ‘mid-air boomerang snow avoidance.” *g*
    I’m glad you’re enjoying Barbara Kingsolver’s book so much. Great stuff in there!

    Reply
  89. From MJP:
    Hi, Kim, thanks for stopping by to see what you’re missing by not being in Maryland now. The snow is beautiful, but I’ll admit that I was thinking of you in Hawaii. Except for the traffic jams and the VOG, of course!
    Sherrie, a gold medal to your cat for ‘mid-air boomerang snow avoidance.” *g*
    I’m glad you’re enjoying Barbara Kingsolver’s book so much. Great stuff in there!

    Reply
  90. From MJP:
    Hi, Kim, thanks for stopping by to see what you’re missing by not being in Maryland now. The snow is beautiful, but I’ll admit that I was thinking of you in Hawaii. Except for the traffic jams and the VOG, of course!
    Sherrie, a gold medal to your cat for ‘mid-air boomerang snow avoidance.” *g*
    I’m glad you’re enjoying Barbara Kingsolver’s book so much. Great stuff in there!

    Reply
  91. Wow, Mary Jo, I can hardly imagine the snow that some of you have experienced. I’ve never been in a snowstorm, let alone a blizzard. We aussies get wildly romantic about snow — some of my friends have still never seen it. We have to take a special trip to the mountains to see it, and that’s only in one small corner of the continent.
    Loved the pic of Grady in the window. And waving to Kim who I met in Baltimore last year.

    Reply
  92. Wow, Mary Jo, I can hardly imagine the snow that some of you have experienced. I’ve never been in a snowstorm, let alone a blizzard. We aussies get wildly romantic about snow — some of my friends have still never seen it. We have to take a special trip to the mountains to see it, and that’s only in one small corner of the continent.
    Loved the pic of Grady in the window. And waving to Kim who I met in Baltimore last year.

    Reply
  93. Wow, Mary Jo, I can hardly imagine the snow that some of you have experienced. I’ve never been in a snowstorm, let alone a blizzard. We aussies get wildly romantic about snow — some of my friends have still never seen it. We have to take a special trip to the mountains to see it, and that’s only in one small corner of the continent.
    Loved the pic of Grady in the window. And waving to Kim who I met in Baltimore last year.

    Reply
  94. Wow, Mary Jo, I can hardly imagine the snow that some of you have experienced. I’ve never been in a snowstorm, let alone a blizzard. We aussies get wildly romantic about snow — some of my friends have still never seen it. We have to take a special trip to the mountains to see it, and that’s only in one small corner of the continent.
    Loved the pic of Grady in the window. And waving to Kim who I met in Baltimore last year.

    Reply
  95. Wow, Mary Jo, I can hardly imagine the snow that some of you have experienced. I’ve never been in a snowstorm, let alone a blizzard. We aussies get wildly romantic about snow — some of my friends have still never seen it. We have to take a special trip to the mountains to see it, and that’s only in one small corner of the continent.
    Loved the pic of Grady in the window. And waving to Kim who I met in Baltimore last year.

    Reply

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