Practically beach weather:
Let's face it, the weather forecasters
almost never get it right. We all know the jokes. Sometimes when they call for a blizzard we end up with sunny and clear.
Bread and milk:
The irrational New England phenomenon of hoarding food and supplies before a snow storm. I'm talking full parking lots and lines from the checkout lanes down the actual shopping aisles. Total panic city. In my thirty odd years I've yet to be completely snowbound. I think its all just a conspiracy between the news stations and the supermarkets. Hello! Domino's Pizza! Expect two inches tops.
Fun snow:
Oh fun snow, how I once loved thee. I remember when I was a kid nothing was cooler than playing in the snow. I'd run out of the house with my mother trying to put a hat on my head and I would roll, sled, throw and wade through that fluffy white stuff until I was dragged back inside for dinner. I'm still a polar bear at heart, but even I now dread that five minutes in the morning waiting for the car to warm up watching my breath fog up the windows. What a difference time makes.
War with the plow folk:
This is when you get six inches or more of snow. Not only do you have to shovel the stairs and sidewalk but in addition to the mound of snow on your car the plow people have left you an impenetrable four foot wall of snow along the side of your car. The best part of this is the knowledge that after you clear it away eventually the plow will bring it back.
Freaking buried:
This is when you get a foot or more of snow. It is rare. This is calling out of work, heart attack level snow shoveling territory. During storms like this if you wait long enough you might see an abominable snow person stroll by your second floor window.
This is what I woke up to today. I opened the door and there was a foot of snow slanted across the porch. The plow people hadn't even bothered to swing by. Those humps of snow out there are cars, they look like igloos with no doors. Total snowpocalypse.
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