look at what's up!

I've got crocuses in the back yard!  In February!  In spite of everything taking a serious bath in salt water a few months ago. 

I've also noticed from the train that a lot of our local waterfowl (various brands of ducks and geese) already have babies swimming in lines behind them. 

This all seems early to me, but maybe I'm just confused.  Or maybe it's nature that is confused?

the results are in

So, we got maybe four to six inches here, depending on where you are standing.  Some places are bare, some have a foot or so of drift.  We get a lot of wind action.  Aside from the plow-in from having the street cleared, I had very little between my car and the street that needed to be shoveled.  Besides, it's supposed to be 47F by Wednesday, so at some point the solar snow shovel takes over.

Some high surf this morning, I got a picture from my upstairs window. Since the stairs over the wall are gone, there's no way to get on the beach without putting out a major effort, which I'm not in the mood to do at the moment.  Here's the vista:

Can't tell from here how much beach there is today, just that the waves are kind of rough.  I'm  mildly surprised there are no surfers out there (yet).

The stop sign is still hanging on, the no outlet sign is buried under a snow drift.  At least the front steps (and a path through the lawn) are clear for the postman, while we still have delivery on Saturdays.  So I'll get my usual supply of catalogs and credit card offers.  And life goes on.

bedtime, and not much snow here yet

What we've gotten is crunchy, and not too much of it, so far.  We'll see what happens over night.  They're still promising 4-6 inches at the shore.  It's not doing much of anything outside at the moment.

Meanwhile, here's what the wind did this afternoon to "my" street signs:

 

The one laying on the ground says "no outlet," which is how I feel a lot of the time, living here.  The stop sign, as you can see, is trying to escape.  I just checked again, and it's still hanging on by a thread or two.

These are new signs since Sandy.  The old ones left us in that storm.  In fact, the post they are or were attached to is new, also. 

Meanwhile, here's how Pablo spent most of the day:

That's the new afghan his Grandma made for him.  He's not a Chihuahua, he's an Afghan Hound....

 

Crunchy snow just starting

We're just starting to get some snow here, and it's chunky, crunchy stuff.  Pablo is not pleased, but he did an honorable job of taking a piss under the back deck, then ran back indoors doubletime.

They're saying we are on the 6 inch line, expecting most of the damage overnight.  Glad I didn't try to go to work today.  Glad I got in a short nap this afternoon.  Glad I have a lot of music to listen to.  Hope the power stays on for the duration.  Fingers crossed.

Going to make a pot of chicken soup.  I hear it's good for the soul, among other parts.

Nemo, or why does weather have to have names?

Nemo is a ridiculous name for a weather system.  Are we naming everything now so people can feel more victimized by it on a personal level?  If it's anonymous weather, we don't take it so personally? 

It's a Republican plot.  Used to be a Communist plot, but we gave up on those guys as the cause of all our troubles a while back.  Maybe it's a CIA plot.  Or a North Korean plot.  Or a Chinese plot.  The new world order.

Whose-ever plot it might be, it's 40-something degrees here, so no snow happening.  Lots of wind, and rain.  Wundermap looks like the snowy part is going to slide on north of us.  (Our front actually doesn't have a name, it's the snowy part that they're calling Nemo.)  One front keeping the other at bay.  Actually, north-west of the bay, if you want to get geographically technical.

You can tell how many residents we don't have living here at the moment.  The "Code Red" call a little while ago advised residents to "secure your debris" and "ask your contractors to secure their work sites" because of the potential for the river coming up at high tide this evening.  Nothing about danger to the residents.  Nobody cares much about us these days.  Especially not the insurance companies.

I think I'll go out and tether the camels.  We're self-help, in my neighborhood.

Reporting from the top of the hill in Sea Bright, NJ.

Clydesdale barrel racing

 

Not quite as fast or agile as one might wish, but it can be done.

thought for today (and every day)