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Snowed In
I am grateful that I can weather the storm.
And the snow just keeps falling. It’s nothing that I haven’t seen before, but we’re in that phase where new snow covers the old, this layer as soft as down — Hollywood snow — but beneath it is packed and crusty, interspersed with road grime and salt and ice.
What seems new to me is the cold and the snow coming together. I don’t think it has been above thirty degrees in two weeks, but the snow just keeps on falling. “Too cold to snow” has been a hope that at least gives a respite from one or the other. But not lately, it seems.
This morning, my pipes finally had enough as my largely unheated basement has been overtaken by the single-digit temperatures. My wife woke me to say that the bathtub pipes — those nearest to the brick wall of our three-flat building — had frozen. So it’s up to check the basement, to put small heaters near the tub pipes, to turn on the faucets.
I’d gone to sleep hoping that I could go for a long drive to clear my head about some things, but no.
The cold is still here, and the snow is still falling, and the roads are bad. Anyway, I need to make sure that my pipes don’t burst and that my tenants are okay. My family shouldn’t have to figure out these things without me.
