XXIII: The Blizzard of Aught Six
Welcome to the 23rd Olympiad of the Watson family update. This update comes as the result of a special request from my Cousin Jess, who on Friday wrote: "I'm actually putting in a request for a Special Edition update when the great Blizzard of '06 happens this weekend. Feel free to include this in your update as a disclaimer that way the groans can be directed at me -instead of you for once." This request was certainly prompted by the media's hyper-coverage of the storm that was knocking on the door of the northeast (coincidentally the American media center). Side-note: Isn't it fun to look at the gi-normous (that was for you too, Jess) map of the U.S. and see a dot of white over the area from NY to DC, while the rest of the country is mostly grey, and contrast that with the voices you hear spewing nonsense about the winter apocalypse sure to decimate our entire western civilization?
Those of you who know me know the contempt with which I hold weather people. They call themselves "meteorologists" in an effort to make them sound scientific. I will begin to refer to myself as an arthimaticologist because it sounds better than "accountant." Anyway, we know these crazies don't know what they are talking about, so when I got Jess's email at 8 Friday night, I was certain that there would be nothing to report. All of Baltimore (which is where I was most of Friday) was similarly obsessed with the snowy doom that was looming. I scoffed. I might even have jeered, I don't recall exactly. At noon, three, and 8 pm on Saturday, I spoke with my parents el telefono and relayed that I had nothing to report. I spent most of the time ranting about the incompetence-laiden drivel that was being spouted from the mouths of these "scientists" with their "Doppler." These fools, who had given a window of "1/2 to twelve inches of snow," were supposed to be heeded? Bah.
Of course you know how this story was going to end. Why do I do this? Why do I tempt the fates? I was a doubting Thomas destined for retribution - and at 11 pm Saturday night, when Jim Cantore arrived with his crew to broadcast from my lawn, I knew I was in trouble.
We awoke Sunday morning and could see nothing but retina burning white snow - a lot of it. Eighteen inches by conservative estimates, and it was still snowing. There was no leaving the sprawling Watson estate, especially since the road we live on is a 7% grade incline. At 1:00, it appeared that the snow was no longer falling, so we started shoveling. I say we because Jimmy helped and was, in all honesty, a huge help. Our drive way is about 30 yards long and has a large apron near the house. After about an hour and half, we had the apron done, with about 20 yards of driveway to go. We did take a few breaks for some fun. The snow was so deep (about 20-22 inches by this point), that if you tried to sled, you would sink down into it. So sledding was out. And, as you can tell from that, it wasn't packing snow, so forts and snowmen were hard to build (despite valiant efforts). One thing you could do was dive into the snow. Big deal right - well, let me see if I can describe this. The snow was so deep that you could run, dive into it as if you were diving into a swimming pool, tunnel under the snow, and then come up about four or five feet later out of the snow, leaving a perfect tunnel where you "swam" -- as if it was a pool of water. Very cool - having never done that before, we decided to do that a lot. Then we thought, hmm, what if we dive into a rock and break our necks? So we stopped. And this time by we, I mean me. And yes, I'm thirty years old.
So, it was back to shoveling. While shoveling, we noticed, at the bottom of our hill, some excitement on Quaker Church road. We live at the corner of Davis Avenue and Quaker Church, but Q.C. Road lies down the hill quite a ways from our house. It is a sprawling estate, after all. Anyway, some of Morris County's finest had pulled over a Jeep Cherokee for what we presumed was a minor traffic violation. We kept shoveling, only to hear Regis yell "he's doing the stupid human tricks" -- sure enough, the police were making the guy go through the works. A few minutes later, the driver was cuffed and into the squad car. An episode of Cops right there while we were shoveling snow - the only thing missing was the blurred out face, oh and the guy had his shirt on.
After we finished the driveway, the guy that we hire to plow the driveway showed up. He proceeded to "plow" the driveway. Read that again. Slowly. And imagine the look on my face because I had just finished shoveling about 2 minutes before he arrived. Read it one more time, it's fun isn't it?
I will never make fun of weather-persons again.
We'll return to fun stories about the kids next time, but one quick one before I go. Remember last time when Maggie talked about painting her room black? Well, we did want to paint her room, so we gave her a choice of colors. She said purple, and of course, like an idiot, I asked her sister. Annie said "pink." Nice work Einstein. So, attached is the handiwork of a soft dad who tried to make both of his girls happy (ignore the light fixture, it's coming out).
Let us know how you are doing.
Those of you who know me know the contempt with which I hold weather people. They call themselves "meteorologists" in an effort to make them sound scientific. I will begin to refer to myself as an arthimaticologist because it sounds better than "accountant." Anyway, we know these crazies don't know what they are talking about, so when I got Jess's email at 8 Friday night, I was certain that there would be nothing to report. All of Baltimore (which is where I was most of Friday) was similarly obsessed with the snowy doom that was looming. I scoffed. I might even have jeered, I don't recall exactly. At noon, three, and 8 pm on Saturday, I spoke with my parents el telefono and relayed that I had nothing to report. I spent most of the time ranting about the incompetence-laiden drivel that was being spouted from the mouths of these "scientists" with their "Doppler." These fools, who had given a window of "1/2 to twelve inches of snow," were supposed to be heeded? Bah.
Of course you know how this story was going to end. Why do I do this? Why do I tempt the fates? I was a doubting Thomas destined for retribution - and at 11 pm Saturday night, when Jim Cantore arrived with his crew to broadcast from my lawn, I knew I was in trouble.
We awoke Sunday morning and could see nothing but retina burning white snow - a lot of it. Eighteen inches by conservative estimates, and it was still snowing. There was no leaving the sprawling Watson estate, especially since the road we live on is a 7% grade incline. At 1:00, it appeared that the snow was no longer falling, so we started shoveling. I say we because Jimmy helped and was, in all honesty, a huge help. Our drive way is about 30 yards long and has a large apron near the house. After about an hour and half, we had the apron done, with about 20 yards of driveway to go. We did take a few breaks for some fun. The snow was so deep (about 20-22 inches by this point), that if you tried to sled, you would sink down into it. So sledding was out. And, as you can tell from that, it wasn't packing snow, so forts and snowmen were hard to build (despite valiant efforts). One thing you could do was dive into the snow. Big deal right - well, let me see if I can describe this. The snow was so deep that you could run, dive into it as if you were diving into a swimming pool, tunnel under the snow, and then come up about four or five feet later out of the snow, leaving a perfect tunnel where you "swam" -- as if it was a pool of water. Very cool - having never done that before, we decided to do that a lot. Then we thought, hmm, what if we dive into a rock and break our necks? So we stopped. And this time by we, I mean me. And yes, I'm thirty years old.
So, it was back to shoveling. While shoveling, we noticed, at the bottom of our hill, some excitement on Quaker Church road. We live at the corner of Davis Avenue and Quaker Church, but Q.C. Road lies down the hill quite a ways from our house. It is a sprawling estate, after all. Anyway, some of Morris County's finest had pulled over a Jeep Cherokee for what we presumed was a minor traffic violation. We kept shoveling, only to hear Regis yell "he's doing the stupid human tricks" -- sure enough, the police were making the guy go through the works. A few minutes later, the driver was cuffed and into the squad car. An episode of Cops right there while we were shoveling snow - the only thing missing was the blurred out face, oh and the guy had his shirt on.
After we finished the driveway, the guy that we hire to plow the driveway showed up. He proceeded to "plow" the driveway. Read that again. Slowly. And imagine the look on my face because I had just finished shoveling about 2 minutes before he arrived. Read it one more time, it's fun isn't it?
I will never make fun of weather-persons again.
We'll return to fun stories about the kids next time, but one quick one before I go. Remember last time when Maggie talked about painting her room black? Well, we did want to paint her room, so we gave her a choice of colors. She said purple, and of course, like an idiot, I asked her sister. Annie said "pink." Nice work Einstein. So, attached is the handiwork of a soft dad who tried to make both of his girls happy (ignore the light fixture, it's coming out).
Let us know how you are doing.
posted by Watts at 3:35 PM
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