Once again, the major snowstorm misses us.
I love snowstorms, much as I like thunderstorms. This might be privilege on my part, because I can stay at home and teach if the weather gets bad out. As a child, I had privilege. I remember my dad driving 30 miles home in the snow and my mother starting to worry half an hour before he was supposed to get home. He had little choice, unless the snow was so bad in the morning that the roads were closed.
When the snow gets bad enough on the interstate in Wyoming, the Department of Transportation literally closes the interstate with gates and locks at the ramps. I remember driving on a ramp to I-80 just as they were unlocking the gate, car stopped behind several 18-wheelers, waiting to get through. I drove slowly on that road and arrived home 10 hours later.
So I love snowstorms even though I don't think I should. I like buying supplies as if we're going to spend a week marooned in the house (and with COVID, I don't even know why isolation is something I relish). I enjoy looking out the window and seeing only white, and hearing the muffled sounds of a snow plow. I hope we get a snowstorm like that today.
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