Karmic Snow Retribution
Dec. 9th, 2005 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrixrefugeeI guess I had it in for me when I posted that rant, last night, about people who dislike snow.
Had to walk to work in the stuff, in near-blizzard conditions. It felt like needles in my face and it came down so hard and fast that it started to accumulate on the lenses of my eyeglasses. Only about six inches had fallen when I was out walking in it, but in between, another eight fell on top of that. In the space of about three hours. That's an average of about 2.3 inches an hour. At one point, I thought I heard a snowplow out in the lot dropping its blade really hard and sudden, but it turned out to be -- get this -- a small thundersnowstorm (which caused white-out conditions. You couldn't see across the lot). Very, very rare occurence, according to all the weather reporters.
Thus, I had to walk home through drifts that in places were up to my hip and even up to my waist (and I'm five foot seven, legally). Make that wade through those drifts. In an almost ankle-length imitation leather trenchcoat and knee-high snow boots. Over ripped-up sidewalks (I guess they won't be finishing the sidewalks before the snow falls, dammit).
Thus, I think I did more work trying to walk home than I did at my actual workplace (where it was pretty quiet, but there were a few brave souls who braved the blast). No wonder that I tripped and fell over backwards on our driveway. I ended up in snow up to my neck! Then I tried getting out and I got stuck. It was like trying to escape quicksand. Soft, fluffy, white quicksand. After a few moments of floundering around, I managed to get myself free and limp to the back door to let myself in. Believe me, I had to shake snow off myself after that, but oddly enough, I didn't get cold from it all. Must have been the layers I was wearing.
And, man, did the Christmas lights in the yard look pretty when I turned them on for the night: the little stylized spiral trees my dad put on the hillside on the edge of the front yard were almost buried, but you can still see the lights shining through the snow.
Had to walk to work in the stuff, in near-blizzard conditions. It felt like needles in my face and it came down so hard and fast that it started to accumulate on the lenses of my eyeglasses. Only about six inches had fallen when I was out walking in it, but in between, another eight fell on top of that. In the space of about three hours. That's an average of about 2.3 inches an hour. At one point, I thought I heard a snowplow out in the lot dropping its blade really hard and sudden, but it turned out to be -- get this -- a small thundersnowstorm (which caused white-out conditions. You couldn't see across the lot). Very, very rare occurence, according to all the weather reporters.
Thus, I had to walk home through drifts that in places were up to my hip and even up to my waist (and I'm five foot seven, legally). Make that wade through those drifts. In an almost ankle-length imitation leather trenchcoat and knee-high snow boots. Over ripped-up sidewalks (I guess they won't be finishing the sidewalks before the snow falls, dammit).
Thus, I think I did more work trying to walk home than I did at my actual workplace (where it was pretty quiet, but there were a few brave souls who braved the blast). No wonder that I tripped and fell over backwards on our driveway. I ended up in snow up to my neck! Then I tried getting out and I got stuck. It was like trying to escape quicksand. Soft, fluffy, white quicksand. After a few moments of floundering around, I managed to get myself free and limp to the back door to let myself in. Believe me, I had to shake snow off myself after that, but oddly enough, I didn't get cold from it all. Must have been the layers I was wearing.
And, man, did the Christmas lights in the yard look pretty when I turned them on for the night: the little stylized spiral trees my dad put on the hillside on the edge of the front yard were almost buried, but you can still see the lights shining through the snow.
