Snowmageddon 2018

A post about snow? At this time of year? My plan was to write this back in April, but... life happened. This is me catching up. 

...~*****~...

The air was warm. The grass was greening. Hats and mittens were tucked away until next winter, then...

Whamo!

A blizzard. An honest-to-goodness blizzard in the middle of April. 
They gave her a name, even. Evelyn.

One day we were running around in short sleeves and the next...

... David was eaten by a snowdrift.

My thoughts exactly.

We had over 33 inches of snow that weekend. High winds pushed it into great mounds of white, covering everything. 

Look at my poor plum tree. Buried half-way up!

Snow filled our front porch and piled up against our windows, darkening the house. Matt attempted to clear our driveway, but by the time he got to the end of it, he had to start over.

The roads were impassable. Snowplows were getting stuck in ditches. Highways were closed. Unable to fetch Brendan from his job the next town over, we reserved him a room at a hotel within walking distance. We managed to get him home the next day during a lull in the storm, thanks to our truck's four-wheel drive. Then we hunkered down while the next wave of snow arrived. It would take a while 'til the weather cleared.

"Mom, don't you love it out here?"

Of course, Joey didn't mind. A spring blizzard was an adventure of the highest order! During another break in the storm, he scrambled to find his snow bib and boots. There were drifts to climb, snowmen to make, brothers to bury! 

I grabbed my coat and camera and headed out, too. There was a sheet of ice beneath all that snow and as I walked I was followed by the sound of it cracking. It would have freaked me out if I didn't know for certain there was solid ground under that frozen layer and not a river for me to fall into. The noise was eerie. 

There was something else bothering me, however. My children had burrowed like groundhogs into the wet snow.  They were delighted with their tunnels. All I could see were tunnels waiting to collapse on top of them, trapping them under cold, heavy heaps. 

Now, I know this is hard to believe, but on rare occasions, I will worry more than strictly necessary. (I'm sorry if this admission has shocked you and caused you to re-evaluate your perception of me.) As I observed my children disappearing into the snowdrifts, I did my best to calmly remind them to use caution and the good sense our Lord gave them, and "just don't dig too deeply." 

Well, I'm pretty sure that's how I meant it to sound. Oddly, instead, it came out as, 

"Avalanche danger!" 

What did I just yell? Even I know two feet of snow falling on top of you does not an avalanche make. To their credit, not one of them rolled their eyes at me (at least that I could see.) We all had a good laugh about it later.

This snowdrift was as tall as I am.

Alex buries Brendan. Ah, brotherly love!

I'm happy the children made the most of the snow while it lasted. In a matter of days, the warm weather returned and the snow melted surprisingly quickly. In fact, a couple weeks after I took these pictures, I drove past an old woman (in shorts) shoveling the tiny remnant of snow off her now green lawn. 

Of all the snowstorms we've experienced, Evelyn will certainly be remembered for years to come.