Snow Where to Go But Up

Snow Where to Go But Up

It's been an interesting week here in the lovely little town of Darrington, Washington and the Seattle metro area. We have been visited by what some here are calling "Snowpocalypse 2019." Or, what people in my hometown of Coeur d'Alene would have called, "Sunday afternoon."

Yes, we've been dumped on by a good amount of snow, and watching what people around here are doing with it has had me at times a bit bemused. 

There seems to be three main reactions that I've seen. First, you have the tough, hardened locals who have seen things. Here in the North Cascades, they've had more than their fair share of snow. They know how to drive on it, they've shoveled tons of it, and they face it with a certain resigned but steadfast acceptance. One of them remarked to me on Friday, "Welp, this could stick around through March, so it could." Shrug. They remind me of folks from my home town. I like 'em.

Second, you have the Seattlite or surburbanite who faces rain and fog with perfect equanamity. It could practically be a monsoon out, wouldn't faze 'em. Put a little snow on the road and and a little ice here and there, however, and it's an snowpocalypse. They creep along nervously along the highways and byways, and I love them. 

It's the third kind of person out here that makes me just a little nervous. They seem to look at snow and ice as the perfect opportunity to test the outer limits of their four-wheel-drive vehicles. They speed into the face of death on the freeways, skid around corners and slide into intersections, barely avoiding the other drivers scrambling to get out of their way. The highway that goes past our place has multiple places where you can tell someone's jacked-up rig has slid off into the ditch and they've had to winch out. Or you have the occasional high school kid doing donuts in an empty parking lot. Not that I ever did anything like that.

Out here at the home studio, we have about a foot of snow, the trees are covered with a frosting of white, and we have epic icicles across the roof. It's a lovely winter wonderland. The snow makes us slow down and take things a little more methodically.

Tomorrow, my beautiful wife Lindsay is having minor surgery in Mount Vernon and will be home from work for the week to recover. We'd very much appreciate your prayers that everything goes smoothly. I might not be directly available but I will be checking messages frequently and returning calls and emails.

We have relocated!