"Da, we are having a bomb cyclone," Guido said to me, pointing at the swirling and heavy snow fall outside the window.
"Nah, it is a bombogenesis." O'Hare, always the scientific smarty corrected.
"Pashaw, it be a snowicane." Me Mam piped up.
"Call it what it is a January Nor'easter." Tonya interjected.
"Em, no no, it be a blizzard fur sure." Cousin Sean announced.
"It be a snowicane they even named it Greyson." Me Mam countered.
"What happened to plain old fashioned snow storm?" I asked and they all gave me a "pssst."
Needless to say, none of us went anywhere 2 days ago. Tonya and Sean did take the kiddos out in the morning at the height of the howling winds to sled around the yard. A snowman was out of the question because rolling the white stuff was near impossible Tonya told me, because it would blow away. Meanwhile, me apple cheeked, grey haired little Mam was making hot cocoa from scratch and getting her fresh baked cookies out of the oven. I had gone into the front room and was watching the news, the weather news to be exact. I had turned the telly on just to have noise, but the first station that came on was a Boston one and they had pre-empted programming for the day to bring you LIVE and in person, the Bombogenesis! O'Hare would have been delighted to know he was right about what to call the swirling snow and winds that were currently freezing his fingers and toes off.
"Since when do we live broadcast typical New England weather?" I said to meself, clicking the channels to our local station. That station had cut into prior programming to update us that there was snow falling with hurricane force winds. No kidding? A glance out the window told me THAT. Geez. I flipped back to the Boston station, and there on me screen was a woman with huge pink ski goggles on her face, holding a microphone and telling me this bit of extraordinarily news that this was a "different" kind of storm. But I couldn't get over the goggles that covered half if not more of her face.
"Do you know how ridiculous you look dressed liked that?" I asked her under me breath. Not that I expected an answer but really?
"Ye talkin' ta da telly again are ye Gabriel?" Me sharp eared Mam called.
The kiddos came in with their adult snowmen, and they all peeled off outerwear completely covered in white crystals and sat down to the hot cocoa and cookies. I strolled in meself because well, I had been working hard critiquing the weather reporters.
It was an hour later I went back to watch the weather reports since that was the only thing on, and there was this male reporter also with goggles, a warm news parka braving the "bomb cyclone named Greyson," and I had to laugh. I be used to these studdly reporters dressed in a windbreaker, big flapping pants to catch the wind, out in the elements getting lashed by wind, rain, snow, sleet, ocean water, whatever be the serious weather of the day it need be broadcast live. I had to go get Sean to show him this guy dressed like Nanook of the North with GOGGLES. Here take a look see for yourself:
|Maybe Boston stations can afford the heavy parka with goggles or in this case as Sean calls them -- googles!|
Now I be used to THIS:
|Pants flapping in the wind, light windbreaker, no googles or goggles, brave man there. Notice this station calls it a nor'easter, blizzard with HURRICANE force winds, all bases covered!|
|Notice New Hampshire was calling this the January Nor'easter? No bombogenesis or Greyson's snowicane.|
|Yup - not shovelling THAT!|
We don't know our snow totals for the drifting of snow which in me mind qualifies the storm as a SNOWZILLA. Yes, I have me own terminology, why not get in on the act too? The winds have howled for three days consecutively and the furnace runs continuously because the temps have been in the double negatives which means me electric and heating bills are through the roof. I feel like me whole neighbourhood has been cycloned to Antarctica and bombed down in the centre of it. However, good news there be a heat wave coming, yup we are expecting to reach a balmy 24 degrees by mid-week. Uh huh. It be also me dreadful luck to have furniture the wife ordered arriving Tuesday which means I must get out there in subzero temps and shovel me arse off. I know you are happy about all this, but really the slow limping snow dance has got to stop there R. Linda. It be a new year so be kind because if me fingers fall off from frostbite, the blog will suffer until I learn to type with me toes!
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