snowmaggeddon part 843

So you might have heard that we’ve gotten a little snow in Boston this winter.  95.7 inches to be exact. Yes, seriously. And just in case that wasn’t awesome enough <sarcasm>, the wind chill this morning hit -26. Yes, seriously. So I thought I’d take a couple of pictures around the house and show you what that looks like chez Wilson.



{image is a photo of our back patio. There’s a full set of tables, chairs, and a grill under there somewhere.}


{image is a photo of our fence, only the very top of which is barely visible above the snow}

There are, of course, lots of these …


{image above and the two below are photos of icicles around the house}



With Katie still asleep and Brooke happily ensconced in the den with JoJo’s Christmas Special, I decided to venture out to the front of the house to check it out.


{images above and below are photos of the tunnel from the street to our front door. The snow is up to my shoulders on each side. Granted, I’m five feet tall, but still}


Good thing there’s no mail delivery today.


{image is a photo of our mailbox, almost completely buried in snow}

Winston wasn’t completely sure what to make of it all.


{image is a photo of Winston staring at the wall of snow as if trying to discern how exactly one gets through it}

Lucy loves it.


{image is a photo of Lucy in almost exactly the same spot, but, although you can’t see it in the photo, her tail is wagging wildly.}


{image is just one more shot of the snow from the middle of the “path” because I’m still not over it.}

By now I was getting cold, so I headed for the door. And went to open it. And couldn’t. Because it was locked.

So I knocked.

The dogs barked. Loudly.

I knocked some more.

The dogs barked louder.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and waited. Nothing.

With a silent apology to Katie, I rang the door bell.

The dogs went crazy. I was beginning to feel like a popsicle.

I rang the door bell again. The dogs were apoplectic, but no one seemed to be stirring inside.

And as I prayed for Brooke to come to the door, I realized that I should instead be grateful that she wouldn’t.

So I called her name. Nothing.

And then I saw my savior. A bleary-eyed Katie ever-so-slowly padding down the stairs. She peered out the window. I stuck my face in it as completely as I could, then waved her down toward the door. “Hurry!” I yelled, “I’m freezing!” She moved about as fast as a slug in molasses.

When she finally reached the door, I thanked her for letting me in. “Brooke wasn’t answering,” I said as I shook the snow off. “Thank you.”

“Ha!” she said. “One time, I was out there for like two hours*. Daddy was in the garage and Brooke was in the den and I was ringing the doorbell over and over and over and it was freeeeeezing and she finally came to the door, looked through the window and WAVED AT ME and then went back into the den.”

I laughed just a little too hard.

“Yeah,” she said, “yuck it up.”

Without another word, she padded back up the stairs.

Still laughing, I headed into the den to give my youngest a very cold kiss.

*Two hours is teenage math for six minutes, give or take two. 


5 thoughts on “snowmaggeddon part 843

  1. We live in Georgia. My daughter was offered a partial scholarship to Northeastern, not as big ss the one from Tulane, but worth considering. I showed her your pics yesterday. Her: you don’t hear about blizzards in New Orleans, do you? Tulane is winning.

  2. Up here, a little north and a little east, on Prince Edward Island, we’re even more buried, 31.4961 inches in last weekend’s storm alone (yeah, I’m in Canada and converting from metric) over 11.8 feet so far this winter. Windchill this morning is -36.4F This is what Alex ( gets to train for the Boston Marathon in…. Hope Boston is shoveled out in time!

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