If you have any friends on the East Coast, then you know that we had a huge storm that people are freaking out over.
It is so great to see this much snow. But I didn't get a chance to take a picture of the snow when it was all beautiful and stuff. And I don't have a warm and eloquent description of my family playing in the snow, or watching the snow fall. I can tell you that church was canceled, that's all that really matters right?
Instead, I took a quick pic of this snow drift as I was driving today.
This dirty snow brought back a flood of forgotten memories from my childhood and I want to hurry and write down before I forget them.
When I was in elementary school. If it had snowed during the day, the janitor/snow removal guy would get out the snowblower after school and take care of any snow that was on the school sidewalks. One snowy day I was starting to walk home from school with my brother David. The janitor started the snowblower and even though we both had to go to the bathroom really bad, we both turned around at the sound of the blower's motor and watched him work for a minute, sort of hypnotized by the sound of the blower and the spray of snow in the air. I was probably nine and David must have been eight and we watched as some sixth graders we knew started to play in the snow fountain that shot out of the snowblower. We continued to watch as the older kids happily played near the snowblower and giggled when snow hit their skin. Then something happened that I'll never forget. One sixth grader, Jessica Peck got too close to the snowblower. She slipped and fell and one of her legs slid under the snowblower. The sound of the motor came to a sickening halt as the girls leg got caught in the snowblower blade. Jessica let out one of the most haunting screams that to this day I have ever heard. David and I looked each other, too stunned and frightened to speak. And then we turned and started to run home as if we had done something to cause the accident. By the time we had run the mile or so home, we didn't need to go to the bathroom anymore. I don't remember ever telling my mom what had happened, or even talking to David about what we'd seen. I had totally forgotten about it until now, but it really was one of the most gruesome things I've ever witnessed.
On a lighter note: did anyone else ride in a suburban growing up? If so, then your dad probably did the same thing as mine did and would ram into giant snow drifts and shout, "Who ya gonna call?" and the kids would yell in response, "Drift-busters!" We'd spend about a minute trying to get ourselves unstuck ourselves from the drift. And then we'd look for another one.
I guess that's all I've got.