Snowblind

We got hit with the big storm of the season. Or at least we hope it's the big one. It's Minnesota after all, and I have vivid memories from back in the early 80s  of white-out freeway conditions on April 15th. I know the day because I'd brought my taxes to work in hopes of low business from the snow giving me time to work on them during the day as they were due to hit the post office before midnight. As it turned out, white-out conditions in morning rush hour freeway traffic resulted in a huge pileup with me sitting nose deep in a huge drift in the center median for a couple hours. My car missed all the others in the pileup, just got stuck in the middle. I had plenty of time to finish taxes! After a couple hours some helpful folks who were getting other cars unstuck finally made it to my car and realized a certain maiden in distress could use a good assist back upon the pavement.

The nearest measurement for snowfall yesterday was west, about 5 miles away, indicating a total of 7.3 inches. Wet, sticky, heavy snow. The further east, the more the system dumped, so we may have gotten just a bit more. It blew hard as it landed, socking in both our storm doors. I wasn't about to push them harder than I had to in order to decide more pushing would only result in broken glass. No need to test it barring an emergency. Did I mention it was heavy and wet? It actually still is, 24 hours later. Just not barring the front door.

I called my youngest son, asking if he'd stop after work and dig part of us out. We're expecting nice thawing temperatures next week for several days, so the rest of it should go away by itself, but I figured having a door we could open, cleared steps and sidewalk, and the half of the parking pad where the car sat would be just fine. Even so he got paid extra for the job. He also was smart enough to make sure, after getting into his own driveway first, that he shoveled enough before heading our way that he could reliably get back in his own again after he finished ours.

I asked him to check the garbage can thoroughly plowed in alongside the street. We had heard plows go up and down several times, but I'd gotten up early that morning and never heard the garbage truck. I wasn't able to get out of the house all day and only had glimpses up and down the street to reinforce my conclusion that none of the cans had been emptied. But I wasn't sure I trusted my judgment. He peeked in and informed me I was correct, it was still full of the garbage I'd set out before the snow, or even the rain preceding it had arrived. 

All the cans on the street were plowed in, but just after 5 AM this morning, a full day late, all were emptied. The arms extending from the truck to dump them never put them back in the precise spot they were picked up from, so many of them were tipped somewhat from being set on less than flat piles of the snow that had surrounded them. Ours wasn't in a bad position, and by the time things warmed up around noon and I finally emerged, it was not a chore to bring it half way over shoveled pavement toward where the management requires it be stored so everybody can pretend such things are not a necessary part of life here. Out of sight, and apparently that means it doesn't stink either.  The second half was forcing the can inches at a time across and over deep wet snow that was starting to compact enough to be impossible but not yet melting out of the way. The route was next to the stairs and porch so all the snow removed from those was added to its route. I think those last 15 feet took ten minutes, some of which  involved lifting, some of which was kicking it into a different angle than it wanted to go in. My arms ached by the time I finished that last short stint. I hadn't asked my son to shovel it because all was grass underneath, and he already had enough the night before to do.

What was odd  when I finally went back in the house was the snow blindness. I had been outside for a while with everything covered in fresh snow, sun shining on it and bouncing back from every angle of every snowflake, white magnified by white boosted by sunlight. Once inside, there was still light pouring in the multitude of windows, but many of those had blinds partly angled for privacy, and just a couple opened enough for a view of the weather while we enjoyed our morning. It wasn't dark by any means. What it all was now was red. The snow outside was even pink seen from the house after coming in, even with full sunshine on it. It took quite a while for true colors to emerge again, white to become white, grey to be grey, and the darkest bits of the interior to go from red to black to their usual colors.

I got called to my job a bit later in the afternoon, and entering that house I was again snow blind, but there it meant everything was simply very dark. Only the usual reds in that house were red, though they were still black first. I had to haul a couple things out to the car in the afternoon and each time returning to that house normal snow blindness returned briefly. By the time I was in for the day at home, sun still shining on still fresh snow, I hardly noticed anything but how wet my shoes were as I kicked them off to put on the rubber mat.

Don't ask me how tired I was by then.