Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I'm beginning to grasp why Eskimos have so many words for "snow."

We've had so much snow this April that it's grown passe to complain about it.  Everyone's sick of it; everyone's had their fill.  There's nothing left to say.  It's gotten to the point where we don't even need to verbalize our disgust -- people just point toward the windows of whatever building they're in and grunt, or roll their eyes, or shake their head in dismay.  We're pale people to begin with; this April, we're positively translucent, it's been so long since we've seen the sun for more than a few hours (or in weather that doesn't require long sleeves, at least).

I mean, seriously: it's the snowiest April ever in Duluth, and we can't be far behind over here.

The latest humdinger was on the 19th.  The weathermen predicted we'd get walloped, but like a lot of people, I kept downplaying it in my mind.  "It's too late in the month for that much.  They're jumping the gun," I thought.  "It won't be that bad."

Cut to 2:00 A.M. that Friday morning, when our power went out due to ridiculous winds blowing the ridiculous trees along our ridiculous road over, all weighed down with ridiculous amounts of snow.

Trees along the road.

I don't know how much we got at our house, grand-total-wise.  It was over a foot, but since we kept shoveling all day, it all kind of blended together by the end. 


Jane shoveling off the truck.

I will say this much for the snow, though:  it's pretty.


And it doesn't seem to be stopping the hawks & eagles, either.

Bald eagle.


Besides, it has to stop eventually, right?


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