They call them nor’easters up here: howling, maniacal weather that blows down small trees, power lines and any other object stupid enough to be built in its way. They don’t respect the calendar. Nor’easters clobber Boston with rain or snow and leave a trail of havoc behind.
I drew up the shade in my bedroom this morning and, at first, could see nothing except more snow on the ground. Where was the storm? Then I looked again. The street looked hazy somehow, as if a fog had descended. Then I noticed the snow, blowing sideways so hard that I could barely see it. Well, okay then. Here’s our storm. It’s the devil in the clouds and in the wind. It’s dark out by now and I haven’t opened an outside door all day. Schools have been canceled for today and for tomorrow. Tomorrow’s high? 7 degrees Fahrenheit.
It’s 5:30 am and I’ve been up for two hours. I could hear the hubby snoring and went downstairs to the couch. It was too cold, even with a sleeping bag. We’ve got some kick-ass snow out there with more on the way. Mighty cold, too.
But sleep? This chronic insomniac usually doesn’t crack open her eyes until 11 am or so. I usually finally get to sleep by 3:30 or even 4am. Very odd.
I’m cold but comfy in Boston, but my family in Buffalo is watching a major snow storm rage by. Buffalo, for those who know it, is no stranger to snow but this is a real record-buster. My family lives a bit north of what’s called the snow belt in the south towns. Kenmore is okay. Orchard Park? Forget it. My dad is staying with my sister, even though he lives only one block away, in Kenmore. My brother also has limited snow since he also lives nearby. However, one of his buddies lives directly in the path of Brother Storm and sent over these pictures: