A snowstorm wasn’t the first thing that came to mind as an Orlando friend texted me “are you ready for It”? I replied “Ready for what”? Having no idea what the term meant, “Bomb Cyclone Dude”! Still not making the connection, I quickly read up a bit online and flicked on the tube.
The abbreviated version: Barometric pressure drops swiftly, winds increase, precipitation is cool and abundant.
The media didn’t stir the story leading up to its fierce arrival, it wasn’t much of a story initially, and then it hit and kept increasing in wind strength and copious amounts of flakes hailed down outside. What was originally thought to be a “three to fiver” became a “six to ten” and then “ten to twelve” all within a half of a days time. Total snowfall accumulation here in good ‘ole Forest Hills was just a hair under sixteen inches in about twenty hours.
The storm was more fierce than most all we endure here in the northeast winter months. The wind blew very hard, the snow pounded upon the streets like a million tiny white ambassadors of winter, with their accumulations swift and the snowndrifts deep, well above my knee in the alleys, it stuck hard upon the lifted foundations.
Venturing to neighbors homes to commence the dig, assigned by civic duty, proceeded to shovel out eight. Eight walkways, eight stoops, eight driveways, two garages and one plowed in car, the absolute worst of all the others by far.
Side Rants and a question at the end.
1. Grayson was not a befitting name for such a storm, it just isn’t a tough enough name. Greystoke “Bomb Genesis” — on the other hand certainly is and Tarzan certainly was.
2. My shovel stinks: A Lynx plow shaped metal shovel weighs a ton, not taking advantage of more modern and lighter materials. Yet, I make up for the shovels suckiness with good weather gear so i will not feel the angry bite of the howling frigid winds.
3. These folks that I shovel out play a game of ‘I didn’t know you shoveled’, as if magically the snow removes itself from driveways, walkways and stoops. They play this game every snowfall and have done so for years. I’ve never preformed the labors for any money nor recognition, I like the exercise, and I’m the only person around who will do it. No kiddos come around with shovels in hand anymore. I must admit, I’m still slightly bothered by the fact that not one of these folks reached out to say “thank you”. And I must admit, I think each time a snow storm arrives that I should stop assisting them. But there is an element of guilt I feel knowing that they are mostly old and don’t move around well and could have a heart attack with the first shovel thrust and lift.
So, what do I do?