Snow in the South

As I settle in to write this entry, I'm listening to the sound of thaw. After all, today is another day. Quite a change from yesterday's all-day snowstorm. For those keeping track, we amassed over 5 inches of the cold, wet stuff. And, yes, I did lose power - for about 15 minutes. Long enough to realize that I don't own a flashlight, but not long enough for me to decide to call it an evening, at 8PM.

Today, there's a bright sunny sky, temperatures are a balmy 50 degrees, and everywhere, the sound of melting snow echoes across the landscape. Feeling a bit restless, I took a trip out and about. I started by brushing off my car, using the NEPIW snow brush/ice scraper combo that I thought I'd never, ever need ever again. Imagine my feelings of superiority when I saw my coatless neighbors brushing heavy wet snow off their cars using their bare hands. (Insert scoffing noise here)

After brushing off the car, I headed out. "Wait 'til it melts" is clearly the official snow removal policy for my home county, and all surrounds. I made it to Home Depot, where I planned to solve my flashlight problem. Slushy snow covered the parking lot and the sidewalk into the store. I spotted a broom leaning against the wall as I entered the store. That was the only piece of "snow removal" equipment that I saw. I guess I never thought about it, but I would have assumed that Home Depot would sell snow shovels - even in Georgia. Guess not. Or maybe none of the employees have completed the "snow shovel" training module and are therefore unable to use that particular piece of equipment.

As I checked out, I noticed that the fellow in front of me was buying a bench. You know, the kind that you put in your yard, so you can sit and enjoy the cool breezes of early spring. I watched as he manhandled the bench out to his pick-up truck. I thought, "Ah, the resilience of southerners. Here's a fellow who wants a bench - and even though it makes absolutely no sense for him to risk life and limb to get to the store and then manhandle the bench across a slush-covered parking lot today, by God, he's going to get his bench!" I bet he's sitting in his yard right now, defying any dripping melting snow to fall on him.

Then, I went to the grocery store. I needed balsamic vinegar for a spinach dish I plan to make tonight. Yes, I risked life and limb for balsamic vinegar. So? While I was in the store, I heard the theme from "Chariots of Fire" come on Muzak. I was so tempted to start running in slow motion through the store. So tempted. In the end, I restrained myself.

Reminded me that a few weeks ago, I visited the earthy-crunchy grocery store on the other side of town. I found that I was totally distracted by "Bohemian Rhapsody" playing on their in-store speakers. You try buying sweet-hot Chinese mustard while listening to "Mama . . . just killed a man . . . put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger now he's dead." And, yes, I thought about doing the Wayne and Garth head-bob at the appropriate moment.

And, so, I conclude with some of the other sights from the day:

A fine effort by some very ambitious snow sculptors.

Two trees that fought the good fight.

Snow and early spring just don't mix.

Snowing

It's snowing today. It started as rain, changed over to ice, and moved on to big, heavy wet snow around noon. At first, it looked like this:

(That's my car, by the way, serving as the dutiful comparison point. Such a good sport, my car. I'm pretty sure that it's saying, "What the hell? I thought you said there wouldn't be any more of this nonsense after we left the NEPIW! Where's my garage??")

After an hour or so, it looked like this:

The car is even more unhappy. If you look closely, I believe you can see an obscene gesture or two.

Anyway, it kept snowing, and snowing, and snowing. Now, at 4:45PM, it looks like this:

The car's obscene gestures are now hidden in the blanket of snow. I think I can still hear a muffled, and chattery expletive or two.

The snow is kind of pretty:

Any other Sunday and this weather event would have meant a guaranteed day off as the college town and Big City shut down until the big thaw. Instead, the snow arrived on the weekend that starts Spring Break. In other words, a weekend when I don't have to teach on Monday. My mother, a former schoolteacher, used to call this kind of ill-timed snowstorm, "a waste of perfectly good snow." I have a whole new appreciation for her sentiment.

The power just flickered in my apartment. Not feeling good about the snow anymore.