I am filled with dread at the thought of attending this year's Thanksgiving dinner at my mother's house. I am fearful that the fact that I have been able to dodge this...
Blizzard of aught-five
The hurricane-force winds have calmed to relatively bearable gusts of 35 miles per hour. Visibility is finally above zero, after non-stop white-out conditions for about 36 hours. The snow drifts are piled high enough to obscure the lower halves of our windows. Our cars are unidentifiable lumps of abstract sculpture that I don't expect to see in person again for at least two days. No amount of pushing will open either the front or back doors; we'll have to dismantle the back door to start excavating our way out.
Storm total so far: 30+ inches of snow, 10-foot drifts, 78 mph peak recorded wind gusts.
We never lacked electricity, heat, contact with the outside world, provisions, or our senses of humor.
And the Patriots and the Donovan McNabbs both won.
Let the digging out begin!