Top 13 of 2013, Day #1: Finding Nemo

Day #1: February 10, 2013

I've lived in Connecticut my entire life. I've seen lots of snow. I've met snowmen taller than me, I've fallen into fresh snow that reached nearly to my waist, I've spent hours ignoring the frost on my fingers because I just had to stay outside.

WHEN I WAS A CHILD.

Front door snow drift. Literally taller than me.

The snow is always a lot deeper when you're only a a few feet tall yourself, so when it happens as an adult, it's a lot more significant. Larger than life snowmen, snowbanks that blanket your house, and hours of shoveling just to get to your mailbox - that was the Blizzard of 2013.

Winter Storm Nemo was significant.

It was so significant, in fact, that my MOTHER picked up a shovel. She doesn't do winter snow removal regularly, but my dad wasn't feeling well, and the plows weren't coming, and damn it! after three days stuck in the house with us, there was no way in hell she was getting marooned there forever.

The end of the driveway...and beginning of an unplowed street.

The shovel didn't help much at first. The snowblower was available, but it's just the kind of heavy machinery that neither my mom nor I should ever be allowed to operate. I actually wondered if it would be faster to just wait for July to come, but we dug out eventually. We even shoveled the roof. (Admittedly, this feat wasn't all that impressive when you consider that the drifts made the distance between ground and roof considerably shorter, but we also approached it from the deck.)

Mailbox: the only clue as to where the yard began.

In the end, I believe we spent four days cut off from all humanity. We never lost electricity. Our cupboards were not bare. The DVR had plenty of shows to catch up on.

It won't be long before people start doubting just how significant the storm was. People will naturally begin exaggerating, and the truth of our 40 inches will be melted by claims of six feet or more. Our four days of wilderness (and the pioneer weeks that followed, in which our street became one narrow tunnel) will be bested by those who were without contact for weeks on end. But I won't forget how significant it was. I know it was a big deal, and no snowfall totals can compare to the simple way that I knew this storm was different:





Because my mother picked up a shovel.

While my mom shoveled, I built a snowman.