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I got a Facebook message from a Florida friend asking how my first New England winter is going. I didn’t even know how to answer that…

But I do realize I have done my family and friends back home a terrible disservice by not blogging at least once about the Crazy Doom Winter of 2015. Snowpocalypse. Whatever you want to call it. Because yeah, if you’re going to do a first winter after a perfect summer, go big or go home I guess. It’s like the whole Northeast is hazing me.


My neighborhood during one of the snowstorms. Yup.

So for starters… I broke my arm the day before my first blizzard. Which is already bad enough, but let me add that I broke my arm by slipping on some ice. In a parking lot. On my way to a long-awaited chiropractor appointment three days before flying to Houston for a business conference.


On the upside, immediately before said accident, I’d spent a delightful morning at Starbucks working and sipping on a perfectly fresh cup of coffee. And I was on my way in to see a doctor who checked my arm, iced it, and told me to go to the ER. So, a tearful phone call to Chris and a hurriedly careful drive through snow later, I was sitting in the ER wearing one of those awkward hospital gowns and realizing that nope, this girl isn’t getting on a plane and flying anywhere.


Thankfully, though the healing process feels like it’s taking forever, it’s happening, kind of like winter. There are times when the sun is shining and the icicles are sparkling and snowflakes swirling through the air are beautiful and magical. There are times when the sky is all gray and the piles of dirty white snow suck the color from the landscape.

There was the morning I woke up in a grumpy mood, looked outside, and could only think about how much I missed the color green. The next day, Chris picked up some flowers to brighten things up and remind us of color, because he’s awesome like that. When Blizzard Number Four canceled our Valentine’s Day plans, we made homemade cornbread and chili and binge-watched Castle. Piles of snow grow higher, but we push back against the cold every way we know how.


So if I had to answer how it’s going… I guess the best answer is that it’s the supposedly worst winter in 20 years, but we are surviving. It’s tough, and I’m totally ready for spring. But there was something heartening about a small army of backhoes rumbling onto our dead end street and scooping our snow piles into dump trunks last week.

I leave you with a short video Chris got of these neighborhood heroes. Who knew construction equipment was so awesome to behold?