Yes, the blizzard was real, but Cape Cod had less than many other parts of the state and area. The piles of snow here in the horseshoe shaped main entrance to my apartment complex look impressive. However the amount of the ground was maybe 6 or 8 inches. That bright sunshine is today, Sunday, after the blizzard did it's worse -- mainly wind -- for some 24-hours from Friday evening to Saturday evening. For us, worst meant power outage that began at 10:00 Friday night and lasted 42 hours.
A couple of blocks away, this morning, my daughter was out shoveling the drive, with her husband. I lent a hand a bit belatedly. The problem was not really the snow, it was the reminder of how much we rely on electricity. It controls our thermostats and regulates the temperature in the houses. My apartment dropped to 55 in about 8 hours. Not a disastrous temperature but unpleasant although I put on layers and only my fingers really felt the cold.
Suddenly: no light, no stove or microwave or coffee maker, no visibility in the bathroom without a candle, no sewing machine. My eyes are too old to read comfortable by candlelight. A progressiong of little book lights have died and been discarded. Fortunately I could quilt and embroider okay and, since I had a long term project that was languishing, I turned to it and made a nice amount of headway. Always I have many projects I'm jugging -- I include reading and writing in that definition.
Rachel remembers well that as she was growing up in upstate New York, near Syracuse, we often had snow storms like this, often with far deeper snowfall, but rarely had power outages and roads were cleared promptly. Perhaps that's why I felt unconvinced by all the dire warnings during the day Friday. I find the day after -- as today was -- beautiful and stimulating. Yes, it's cold, but a little shoveling warms you quickly. The contrast of trees with snow clinging to branches and trunks with brilliant blue sky is beautiful. And tomorrow it's to be in the 40s, possibly with rain -- much of the snow will disappear and the rest will become a sloppy mess. Such is the cycle of these winter storms.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!