The wind is roaring, the snow is blowing, a blizzard warning is supposed to continue until around 4 a.m. It was warmer at 6 this morning when I made a run to the supermarket than it is now. The emails I get inviting me to make the big move to Mexico, Belize or other warm climes upon retirement seem to be such a tease. Retirement is a million years away. In the here-and-now it’s still snowing.
I check the time on my cell phone. It snows on my cell phone when it snows outside–the animated frost collects in the corners, and icicles grow down the sides of the clock. Brrr. Not quite 7 p.m., then. Friends are giving a party tonight, unless everyone else decided to bail out due to weather. I admire their guts for daring to make plans this time of year, when the weather makes plans for you.
It’s not as bad as last year, not yet. Last year by this time the city was buried under several feet of snow and the world seemed to stand still at Christmas. Not that it still couldn’t happen, but by this time last year we were already sick of the white stuff. We’ve been lucky until now, we remind ourselves. Real lucky.