'Snow joke out there. Dopers in areas that get a lot of snow, how do you deal with it?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
61

I’ve reached the stage at which I’m the old neighbor.

I’m the last place on the road, and the town plows the turnaround, which includes most of the area that most people think is my drive. I used to shovel paths and shovel out whatever area remained between the small barn the car’s parked in and the plowed turnaround area, a job made somewhat harder by the fact that the plow leaves a packed ridge in the way (they can’t help it, what with the way the place is laid out); and I do still do some shovelling, but these days my neighbor generally shows up with his little front-end loader, which he loves using, and does most of it. He does a couple of other neighbors’ too. He’s a good guy.

The road itself is one of the last ones plowed. Doesn’t bother me. I’ve got a wood stove, plenty of food in house for me, cats, and dog, and plenty of stuff to do at home (somebody asked a farmer what time they went to work in the morning, and was answered: I don’t go to work in the morning. I just get up, and there it is, all around me). Though all that gets done may turn out to be sitting in front of the stove with cats on me, dog at feet, a good book and a cup of tea. If I had an emergency and had to get out, I’d call the highway department, and the plow would show up faster.

I don’t ski; but I do have a pair of snowshoes.

The car’s four wheel drive with all weather (not all season) tires; but mostly if the weather’s bad I stay home. If I routinely had to drive somewhere no matter what the weather was, I’d have studded snows on.

Pretty common around here, too. And that’s what I’m driving.

We don’t get the snow Buffalo does – I’ve seen three feet once, but that was one of the really major blizzards. Usually, whatever direction the weather’s coming from, the edge is worn off it before it gets to us.

I like winter. Nothing needs mowing, and if anything does need weeding it isn’t possible to do anything about it until spring, anyway. Still a lot of work to do, but not the kind in which the job doubles in size if you get to it a couple of days late.

Though by spring I’m definitely ready to be able to go outdoors without a coat!

62

I should mention that not everyone embraces winter where I live. In my neighborhood, at least 80% of my neighbors are snowbirds who go south for the winter. They either have second homes in Arizona or Texas or a gigantic RV that they park somewhere warm.

For those who stay here all year, you’ll see us walking our dogs in -20 degree weather, grocery shopping every week, and doing the things we usually do during the summer, except for the boating and swimming part.

I grew up in sunny California and drove four hours to get to the snow if I wanted to ski. When I retired, I decided I wanted to live someplace with at least four seasons, which meant someplace with winter. These days it’s a 30-minute drive to the slopes and the best powder in the Rockies.

After 14 years in Montana, I’m still here and have no intention of moving or buying a second home somewhere to hide from the winter. However, if I ever win the lottery, I might buy a second house on the island of Maui…

63

If you choose not to find joy in the snow you will have less joy in your life but the same amount of snow.

64

My Wife took the dogs for a walk today. I asked if she used shoes (snowshoes). No, she said, but next time she will. I’m in Denver right now.

And yes, it stays. We are full on winter at my house.

65

I nominate Joseph Pujol, better known by his stage name of “Le Petomane.” One of the most beloved vaudeville performers of the early 20th Century. :smiley:

66

Awesome philosophy and so neatly expressed. That’s a keeper. Thank you.

Please allow me to translate that into Southerner-speak:

If you choose not to have snow in your joy you will have less snow but the same amount of joy.

:wink:

67

Or, if you choose not to find joy in sweltering, oppressive heat you will have less joy in your life but the same amount of sweltering, oppressive heat.

:wink:

68

Quite right. One man’s sweltering oppressive heat is another man’s delicious tropical warmth.

I’m actually glad different people like different things or we’d all be trying to live in the same place. That would be crowded. Cheers! :slight_smile:

69

If you choose not to find joy in modest amounts of snow, you will have less joy but modest amounts of snow. If you have tremendous amounts of snow, it is possible joy becomes less of a choice and more of a delusion at some point. If you are a Southerner who chooses not to have snow in your joy, you will have less snow and warmer sweet tea. Whether this causes more joy instead of the same amount depends on whether you have ever lived in a very snowy place, previously joined the Night Watch, play hockey, ski, prefer colder sweet tea, or know how to drive in snow and ice when most of the local people do not.

70

Marcel Marceau? Nice thing about him is that he stays quiet and does not try to affect Canadian politics.

Here in southern Alberta, we do get some vicious snow, but it is tempered by chinook winds that melt everything. Still, for a few days, it’s best to have plenty, since it’s no fun to have to go out and get it. So, you stock up when the weather report says to be ready.

What bugs me about those times is that I have to go out and shovel every day. Not for me necessarily–I can deal with just about anything, and I’ve got a big truck that can do the same–but for the mailman, who won’t deliver if I haven’t cleared a path.

71

There are plenty of suitable Quebeckers and Québécoises. Failing that, Marceau does stay quiet but my personal preference would be for Adjani, Binoche, Tautou or Bruni. Not too many people would be bothered by Monet, Voltaire, Charlemagne, Curie, Pasteur or Debussy.

72

Best user name/post combo of the thread, I’d say.

Although winter gets pretty tedious by February (and we won’t have reliable nights above freezing until May), I far prefer it to southern humid heat, which makes me want to die only I don’t have the energy to kill myself. I’m like C.S.Lewis, drawn to Northerness. The only place left on my bucket list is Iceland.

73

They just said no the news that Buffalo got 77” of snow— taller than almost the entire Bills roster.

74

…in Orchard Park, which just happens to be where the Bills play.

75

Can I steal that?

Seems applicable to quite a lot of stuff.

Doesn’t do that here nearly as much as it used to. It used to build up most of the time from December to mid-March, except for usually one brief warm spell generally known as “the January thaw” which melted most of the accumulation to that point. Now, in a lot of years, there’s extensive thawing in every month, so we don’t get a lot of buildup.

That’s not good for perennial plants, such as orchards and vineyards – they’re adapted to weather that gets cold and stays there for a while. Brief thaws don’t bring them out of dormancy, but long ones, especially repeated long ones, can do it – and then the next freeze damages them, because no, it wasn’t spring yet after all.

Indeed!

I’m on the “it’s sweltering oppressive heat” part of the spectrum.

And I’m very glad that everybody doesn’t want to live where I want to live.

Plus which, it can be fun to visit some of the others, sometimes; given that I then get to come back home again.

76

1984 {?} I was living in Hilton on the shore in a house we nicknamed the Concrete Beach [reggae fans, but no jungle and one of them stayed lit a fair amount, it worked.] I got snowed in for 10 days around Christmastime - luckily there were 2 weekends and I had enough vacation banked. Didn’t get to hit Disneyworld with my parents, brother and nephews as planned, but the power didn’t go out, we had plenty of food and cable tv. I used to have a picture looking out from the breakwater with Lake Ontario frozen [complete with those frozen ice ripples that are frozen solid waves] [and I need a word with my drunken elf autocorrect, it changed ripples into nipples] out for almost half a mile. [and it changed mile into milk. Sheesh]

I remember in the late 70s a series of blizzards that had my brother and I banished to sleeping on the floor because Dad brought a few secretaries that couldn’t make it home to the house and filled all the non-floor sleeping accomodations up, usually for 2-3 days at a time. I can remember in 79 after I got my forktruck license running someone home in the yard hyster [large outdoors forklift, had a cab that was fitted out with a bench seat. Ran on propane, slow as hell but I got her home, it wasn’t safe for regular tires but the hyster was fitted with chains at the time, and a plow blade. Great utility tools.]

Feb 1983, got off work and started west from Rochester and headed to Springfield OH to visit my BF at Wittenburg where he was going to school. It was a light flurry, nothing off for western NY in Feb. By the OH/PA border the snow had slowed me down so it took me 5 hours to do what I normally did [75 Mustang, manual, 8 ccyl] in 4. Filled my tank at the usual truck stop and pressed onwards. Was following semis and plows, and the traffic dwindled as the snow continued at what most would call moderate to heavy with drifts into blizzard. Hung a west from 77 onto 70, and about 15 miles past Columbus I got stopped by a very lonely pair of state troopers in an SUV who somewhat politely asked me what the fuck I thought I was doing, then they noticed a NY plate … I told them that I was heading to Springfield and [10 hours into a 6 hour trip] was running late. They conceded that yes, it was taking me a while, I was effectively plowing my way because the snow was just hitting my bumper. They did notice I had chains on, and sent me on my way. They should have stopped me, but there was nothing along that stretch in either direction for me to stop at, no rest areas, no exits with shelter, nothing. It was at that time a particularly desolate bit of road. Another 3 hours later, I arrive in Springfield. A couple days later, when trying to start the car to head home, the cold had made my timing belt fragile and it snapped. Sigh.

Please do [my stoma is named P’tit Joey because all I did for a month was fart through the stoma as my gut biome reasserted dominance] He was an interesting guy.

I have flown over it, and landed and changed planes there, and would love to visit. I am one who is more cold adapted than heat adapted, I grew up in western NY sleeping with my window open about 6 inches in the winter, it makes my Fresno Ca husband grumpy when he wakes up with snow on his head. [the window in the western NY house room I have kept for personal use when we visit has the head of the bed right under the window.Included cat tax.]

77

Don’t sigh, be very thankful that it didn’t snap on that particularly desolate bit of road!

78

What I find scary is that I remember most of these late 78s and early 80s storms very well. Reading this is making me relive them. I guess I’ve lost my sense of adventure because now I just hunker down in place and pay close attention to the forecast.

Oh heavens, I’ve turned into my father! :grin:

79

Soon enough you’ll be turning into his father. Oh bother.

Good luck to us all on that journey; we’re going to need it.

80

It might be worse. I’m female. :smile: