Snog: The Snow Blog

8:30: I am awake. The room has a brightness it normally doesn’t.  I get up and peek through the blind slats. It’s snowing! The whole backyard is draped in soft whiteness. It looks like it would melt if touched, like it’s been coated with powdered sugar. It’s magical.

9:00: I am going to bake for my family. Hmm, oh, a box of Trader Joe’s scones…crap, it’s not berry, it’s pumpkin cranberry. Will they notice I’ve had this shit since December? It’s definitely a Christmas flavor. Maybe I’ll add white chocolate chips to spruce it up a bit. Plus that way I won’t want to eat them myself.

Oh, fuck it, it’s snowing! How lucky are we that we have power and a home.

What about those less fortunate than us, those who live in the tent city under the bridge? What are they doing today? How are those families surviving the worst storm of the decade, nay, the century? And what about those kids whose only hot meal for the day is at school? What are they doing today, tomorrow, yesterday, for food? I feel for them.

9:15: Why is it so dark in here? Oh, the sky lights are covered in snow. How much snow can they hold before they leak, or worse, break? Can that happen? Is that a possibility? Do they use sky lights in the North?

9:17: I just saw a gust of wind. It’s like throwing baby powder on the invisible man and seeing the shape of his face. I saw wind. It’s really swirly.

10:07: What is the cat screaming about? Shut up. And shut up, Spongebob. The sound of your laugh makes millions of parents contemplate filicide.

10:08: I can’t see the road in front of the house. No road. No way out.

10:29: The Shriner’s Hospital just called for a donation. I wasn’t rude when I said no. “For once,” my younger daughter said.

10:47: I am so glad my kids aren’t young anymore. I don’t have to get their little bodies into twenty layers and trek out into the below freezing snow to walk around long enough for someone to fall down and cry, which means back inside to dry tears and make twenty gallons of hot cocoa, which no one would drink, just eat damp marshmallows off the top.

My mother used to tell my sisters and me what snow days were like when we were little and lived in Baltimore. It involved getting everyone into snow suits and hats and mittens and boots and pushing us out the door, a process that took at least an hour, until one of us would invariably shit ourselves and we all had to come back inside to peel the layers to get to the bowel movement.

I just woke up the teen. She looked out the window and said, “Snow.” Then she climbed back in bed. That is the way to do a snow day.

10:56: My husband sounds like Archie Bunker. Why did I wake him up?

The Olympics are on.  These Olympics need less ice dancing and more ski jump fails.

11:01: The teenager wants to go for a driving lesson. What part of the teenage brain is that disconnected from reality??

11:13: Why isn’t anyone answering my texts? Has the cellular network already failed us? Am I off the grid? Or maybe they just don’t like me. Maybe they weren’t my friends to begin with. Does anyone like me? Oh god, they all hate me. Or maybe they are playing in the snow.

11:31: I’m bored. I’ve looked at all the websites. Ice dancing persists. No one wants to bother with getting dressed. I refuse to clean the house. Refuse. We can live in filth for all I care.  Where are the cats? Their presence soothes my inner demons.

11:49: My husband thinks he should start his car to melt the ice off of it. He parks it in the driveway. I am going to trek out there with him. I wonder if I should take a snack and some bottled water and one of those silver emergency blankets. Oh wait. He can start the car from the warmth of the house, right from his keychain. Crisis averted. Thank god we are all safe.

11:50: He read what I wrote a minute ago and thought I made him sound stupid. We are starting to turn against each other.

12:54:  I can’t feel my face or my toes. I was coerced into walking to the entrance of the neighborhood. Over a mile round trip. I found yellow snow. I’ve heard about it for years but never actually saw it before. I was not tempted to eat it. Speaking of dogs, we met one on our stupid cold walk. What must his paws feel like? I wanted to kick his owner in the nuts, except I doubt he would feel it through all the layers. His dog only has one layer. Maybe he doesn’t love it, owner. Maybe he is jumping up on us as a cry of help.

1:21: Everyone is now in a different room. It’s for the best. I think I should clean the toilets. Should I clean the toilets? If I do that, I should also clean the sinks. Wait, we have five toilets. I’m not cleaning the toilets.

I would take the cats outside if I didn’t have to put on all those layers again. I like to look at white snow on black cat fur. It’s aesthetically pleasing, plus they are scared of it. Chicken Littles.

2:25: I made microwave popcorn. Isn’t this stuff going to kill me, with its butter flavored carcinogens? And why is the microwave smoking? Should microwaves smoke? Should I unplug it? If it causes a fire, how is the fire truck going to get here through all this snow? I hope this popcorn was worth it. Burning down the house. Sheesh. Now I am scared to go watch a movie in case the microwave bursts in flames and I am in the bonus room upstairs. I should put it outside in the snow.

Cool. Maybe I can get a new microwave. Plus, I burned the popcorn.

2:38: The snow stopped. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.

2:39: It started again. Fuck.

2:45: We are watching “My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding” on Netflix. My favorite line is “My third cousin was my first husband.”

3:59: Enough Netflix. My brain is rotting. My husband is hiding in the bathroom with some drink that involves an ice cube he made outside and a lot of rye and bitters. Sazerac?  The teen is singing Lana Del Ray songs at the top of her lungs while blowing bubbles in her glass of limeade. And the bonus room smells like popcorn farts.

I will not make it til Friday. I have found a website that helps design labyrinths for the backyard. Overlook, here we come.

4:07: Time to plug in all the electronics. Laptops, iPhones, everything with a cord. Because what I hear now isn’t snow, it’s sleet or freezing rain, and it’s the size of summer hail. How long do we have until the power goes out?

4:12: There is one SUV going down the street. Where the hell do you think you are going? Nothing is open except the hospital, and you don’t look like you are in a big hurry. Bring back some milk, please. Someone used it all up on hot chocolate and lattes.

An ATV just went by in the other direction, and it was going significantly faster than the SUV. I’m glad there was no head on collision in front of my home. I’m also glad my mailbox was not collateral damage.

4:45: The sleet continues. I just scooped up some snow in my glass, added chocolate syrup, a splash of milk, and enough Bailey’s to make me nice again. The 12 year old found it delicious. Is it wrong to give my tween a Bailey’s snow cream? I’m pretty sure it will make us both like each other more.

5:04: I feel really badly for that bird on the tree outside my window. It looks so cold. It’s also looking at me, right in the eyes, deep in to my soul. I think it only has one leg. Is this some sort of test? Seriously, doesn’t this bird have somewhere to go? All the other birds found a safe place. What’s wrong with you, stupid bird? No wonder you only have one leg. And this, on Darwin’s birthday.

5:21: At least the wind gusts are blowing tons of snow off the roof. It doesn’t seem likely that a total collapse will happen tonight.

5:45: I did it. I cleaned a toilet. Even the cats are looking at me like what the fuck are you doing.

6:39: Time to make dinner. This may be our last hot meal for a while. I opted for the fridge cleaning tortellini. I tossed it with cherry tomatoes, sautéed sun dried tomato chicken sausage, peas, spinach, sweet caramelized onions, and roasted red pepper puree. That way it had something that everyone hated. And lucky for us, plenty left over for lunch tomorrow.

If my husband asks me one more time if I want a glass of wine, I am going to hit him with the bottle.

7:25: My family is in the front of the TV. Two of them are on their phones. The teen has decided now is the right time to shop online for bikinis. It goes something like this: “Mom, what’s a good website for bathing suits?” How the fuck should I know? Do I look like I need to be wearing a bikini? Plus, it’s February and we have more snow and ice than we have had since you’ve been alive. Go eat another cookie and leave me alone.

7:43: My husband asks who wants to go outside and look at the snow. No one answers.

7:47: The teen asks my husband if he has to sound like that when he coughs.

7:52: Watching the local weather forecast. The meteorologist said it’s in the twenties, and to just stay home and relax. Was he talking to me?

8:01: Just a thought. What if we all met outside with our hair dryers plugged into outdoor extension cords? Could we clear our neighborhoods in less than an hour?

8:28: Snow is beautiful. This is freezing rain, and it’s like a freaking summer storm of ice pellets out there. It’s ruining all my lovely snow. Ice is good in a glass with water but horrible when it coats power lines and my driveway. Please, power, stay on. I would hate to resort to using my spouse as a Tauntaun, but I will do what I have to for survival. Also, I am out of chocolate. Would it be wrong to raid the Valentine’s goodie bags I made for my family? I can’t exactly replace them before the 14^th, since no big thaw is expected. I’m talking a Lindt dark chocolate orange bar. No one even knows it’s there.

8:33: My husband just discovered the use of “hella” as an adjective. Yet another defense for justifiable homicide.

8:49: Is there ever a time when SpongeBob isn’t on? Also, the satellite seems to have a glitch in its matrix. Wait, that’s probably a weather related issue. Oh shit, a weather related issue. We might lose our satellite. We might lose television. Might we lose internet? Suddenly losing electricity is about more than staying warm. Shit just got real.

9:01: Things have turned desperate. I have agreed to watch that Burt Weatherstone movie. I don’t even like magicians.

9:50: Is this movie really almost funny or am I that starved for entertainment? And it turns out his name is Wonderstone. Whatever.

10:19: No one can go to sleep until we fight over who hid all the iPhone chargers. There should be four, but only two have surfaced. Who gets to use them? Obviously, the ones who paid for the phones. Instagram can wait, children. Now get your slug butts in bed because I am through with you, and through with this day.

The next morning, 9:07: How can it still be snowing?