The Snopocalypse of 2010

When a snow forecast is issued by a meteorologist, it is usually met with skepticism by folks who live around here. They scoff at the forecast, and assert that “they never get it right” and “we never get as much as they say we’re going to get.” On Tuesday night, my friend CJ made such an assertion, claiming we’d be lucky to see eight inches. He was convinced that the predicted apocalypse of snow (snopocalypse) was simply more fear mongering committed by Ed Hanna, Glenn Schwartz and whomever else were spending the evening news red faced, spewing dire predictions.

The meteorologists might have actually underestimated this one. CJ certainly did.

Asleep on my couch, CJ missed his snow prediction come to fruition around 11:00 AM.



By 3, the snow had broken into double digits. CJ played xbox.

Around 4:30, Bucky CJ and I headed outside to get a leg up on further snowfall by beginning to shovel. The snow that had fallen was without question the absolute worst sort of snow to shovel. Wet and heavy, every shovel felt like hurling a bag of bricks into the air. Everything was buried. Our cars looked like eggs rising from an endless surrounding of white. The snowstorm had kicked our ass.







To end my post, I offer three views of my backyard as the day passed and the snowstorm let loose its wintry wrath upon us.

11:30 AM

1:30 PM

4:30 PM