9:00am Tuesday: Wow! Six inches to one foot of snow all over. Got a solid snow blow in, although it only took 12 minutes to do the main part of the driveway. Here’s a few shots from this morning.
11:30pm Monday: Lots of wind; some drifting and some snow. But thus far, the Great Storm is a disappointment. Here’s our driveway a few minutes ago.
4:15pm Monday: I will update this post with additional pictures, video, and comments as the storm moves across Traverse City, Michigan. Here is a screen-snip of the radar at 4:10pm and a picture of South Union Street outside my office at 4:20pm.
The snowblower started right up, but wouldn’t keep going when I activated the drive or blade levers. I quickly abandoned that and returned to shoveling. It took about an hour and forty-five minutes to shovel the main driving areas of the driveway, which is good enough at this point. Hopefully, the snowblower will work better when it’s not 5am and dark. Time for work, coffee, and a cinnamon roll.
I spent much of the weekend in the office watching a multi-hour webinar on Planning for the Taxable Estate. Around watching, and as an excuse to get up and stretch my legs, I thoroughly cleaned up the books and files around my office. The furniture stayed put.
I’ve always liked to use the end of the year to organize various parts of my life – both physical and digital. And as we near 1/1/2013, it’s time again to put away the 2012 stuff and make room for the new. Especially with our baby son coming oh-so-soon, I am guessing that I will have to be more efficient than ever at keeping my stuff in order because his stuff will soon displace my stuff in the hierarchy of which stuff I most care about!
The week ahead is going to continue to be busy, as we have three Christmas parties to attend – MFDA, RJFH, and CRB. It will be fun, and I am looking forward to a healthy dose of Christmas cheer to go with the fresh blanket of snow covering the white Christmas lights lining our fence.
The snow also marks the true start of winter, and my 6am-obligation to keep the steep and curving parts of the driveway safe for passing. It’s not all bad, as it’s forced near-daily exercise.
Have a tremendous week, and don’t be too busy to enjoy a Christmas song from time to time.
The average annual snowfall for a small village just north of a long forgotten two-track in western Canada is just over 346 inches. This past summer, the road crew for the village went to the trouble of installing fans 20 feet in diameter along its three-block long main street. The intended effect of the fans was to blow the snow up and away from the village’s main city blocks and onto the rooftops and back alleys. That way, for the six-month-long winter, the residents of the village could walk or snowmobile their way to and from the local market, pharmacy or saloon. However, the fans quickly became overwhelmed by the snow, created two heaping mounds of snow – one covering each of the two rows of buildings – and froze in place. The result, as was discovered by the local stunt helicopter pilot on his bi-weekly trip south for emergency medical provisions for the village’s residents, was the transformation of its main street into a gluteal-like cleft between two enormous pale cheek-like heaps of snow. The pilot snapped a blurry photograph with his iPhone and sent it to his ex-girlfriend Lola, the head anchor for the not-so-local TV 17 & 4 studio. The village main street was featured on that evening’s news and shared throughout Canada for the rest of the week. What many Canadians had long believed to be a fleck of pepper from the national cartographer’s pastrami sandwich was now dubbed “Applebottom, Alberta.”
Written from 11:23 pm to 11:43 pm on Thursday, September 15, 2011 at home in Traverse City, Michigan.
I have this image in my head of walking along a city sidewalk with you late at night. The street lights are glowing orange. There is a bench on the left. Everything in sight is covered in an inch of undisturbed snow. The path ahead seems to be converging on a single focal point with an infinite approach. We are not cold. We are not in a rush. We are just walking side by side. Holding hands on occasion. Talking. Looking back at our footsteps as they fade into the orange glow we leave behind.
Maybe most remarkable is the silence we have found. It contents me. I can relax my shoulders. Take a deep breath of cold air and open my eyes wide to all of my wonders. Most wonderful of all being that I am on this path with you.
It is moments like these when I most want time to stop. To let me have a moment longer. Because soon it will be five or ten years later. I will be a different person. Still wanting what I have tonight.
Written from 8:32 am to 8:52 am on Sunday, November 9th, 2008 in my apartment in Concord, NH.