Monday, February 11, 2013

Blizzard Diary

February 8, 2013

6:00 AM – Good news. No sign of snow. Z leaves for work early hoping to park inside to avoid removal of snow accumulation before the evening commute. Not sure how she gets away with it. I would think parking inside a hospital would be frowned upon. I wish her God speed and eat my first jelly donut.

7:00 AM – Bad news. First sign of snow gathers on the front lawn.  No actual snow, just the Zombies across the street, who become annoyed at just the mention of snow, mostly because they have a hard enough time shuffling around on dry pavement, let alone snow. Not sure why they always gather on my lawn, though. I guess they think I can make it go away, mostly because I fixed their cable once. I wish them God speed and eat my fourth and fifth jelly donut.

8:00 AM – Good news. The Zombies finally went home after I agreed to let them have all the Boston Creams. Zombies love Boston Creams.  Good thing. The first real sign of accumulating snow appears. Again, not actual snow…just the stupid sign my “Harbinger of Doom” neighbor, Fred, breaks out whenever they predict more than 4 inches. Fred has signs for most cataclysmic events. Armageddon, the Rapture, the old Mayan Calendar, the New Mayan Calendar, the Super Bowl Halftime show. I wish him God speed and wish I had saved a Boston Cream for myself.

9:00 AM – Bad news. One half inch of actual snow has accumulated. Fred has already baled but left the sign behind in my driveway.  The Zombies have already shoveled their walk…twice. They’re in unusually good spirits for an impending blizzard. Apparently, they made an agreement with the new family down the block—the Donner’s—to eat each other’s dead, if it should come to that.  Zombies...what else is new?

10:00 AM – More bad news.  We’re already out of Mallomars.

11:00 AM – Temperature hovers near Freezing. This annoys Freezing to no end, who tells Temperature to get a life and stop getting sticky chocolate finger prints on her iPad. I slip out of the room undetected and wash my hands.

12 Noon – I retreat to the garage and start the back-up generator to ensure a quick emergency power transition, should it come to that. I also start the lawn mower and leaf blower, just because I’m odd. I miss those guys.

12:30 PM - Due to confusion precipitated by carbon monoxide fumes accumulating in the garage, I gather up two loads of firewood and carry them into the house next door, where the two cute witches live.  They thank me and say they can use it to keep their caldron going at full boil. They express their appreciation by saying they would love to have me for lunch.  I decline…but wish them God speed and ask if they happen to have any Mallomars. They do not.

1:00 PM – Bad news. The snow continues to accumulate. At least an inch and a half on the ground now.  A cold shiver of dread creeps across my spine as the neighbor’s cat creeps across my porch. I suddenly remember, I never had lunch. I decide on tuna.

2:00 PM – Snow begins to intensify.  I warily record nearly 2 inches of accumulation at this hour. There may be at least another 2 inches, but I decide to wait until another hour to record those, when I’m not so wary or feeling woe. Possible sugar crash at work—not sure why.

3:00 PM – Return to the garage to gather more firewood but discover the Vampires from up the block have taken whatever was left. They heard from the witches that I was giving away free wood. I merely smile since Vampires don’t like to be crossed. They tell me they’re making steaks and need the wood to make a fire.  I tell them steaks seem like an odd choice for Vampires and they should be careful not to get burned. They just stare at me with those blank vampire expressions that I hate. The Vampires never get my subtle humor.

4:00 PM - Good news. Z arrives home early from work after driving 20 miles in treacherous conditions. Bad news. She immediately runs over Fred’s sign, which I forgot to remove from the driveway. Z curses and chants something in tongue, which causes the Zombies across the street, still obsessively shoveling their walk, to drop their shovels and run inside, or what passes as running for a Zombie.  I take a nap.

8:00 PM –. After waking, I find the storm has intensified. Actual accumulation and blowing wind is apparent.  I judge about 4 inches. The rest I let slide with just casual observation as I sense those inches are much more sensitive to criticism than the original 4. Z has apparently brokered a deal with the vampires to return some of the firewood. Not sure what the exact terms are but I’m concerned it involves my washing caskets for the next year again

10:00 PM – Bad News. Slept though almost all of CSI: NY.

11:00 PM – Five Zombie s across the street knock on my door and ask if I want my front walk shoveld. Actually, only two make it to the door. The other three are stuck in a drift by the curb.  I thank them but decline. Never allow a Zombie to shovel your walk. They'll never let you forget it.

12 Midnight – Snow falling horizontally. The Zombies stuck by the curb are no longer visible. Decide to call it a night. Leave note to myself not to disturb the Zombies buried by the curb in the morning. Zombies like to sleep in.

1:00 AM – Wake Z to remind her she is free to consume my body should I not survive the storm. She grunts, and reminds me that she’s eliminated fatty meals from her diet and that I never listen.  I wonder if the donut shop will be open in the morning.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

6:00 AM – I awaken to a glorious snow covered expanse.  Unfortutnarely the exanse is in the bathroom as I forgtot to close the window.  Good news…we have survived the storm and the Zombies across the street have already shoveled out my driveway. Bad appears they’ve eaten their dead…or undead…plus they’ll expect me to pay them for shoveling.  Just another day in the neighborhood…except there’s no jelly donuts.


  1. What did Fred's sign say?

    1. Say 'No' to Snow! It will be more apparent in the movie version.....

  2. I can't wait. What music will you choose?

    Another matter: I wrote to Terry about the neighbor who parked his truck in my driveway OVERNIGHT. Oy Oy. My reputation is made. Amazing what 86 year olds are capable of doing! Yeah!

    1. Hey don't hold back, now. Retorters need to know, too. Does it have anything to do with your dubious background?

  3. Well, I signed a lot of papers, so anything I do might incriminate me. If I get shot at dawn, should I have that last cigarette? I'd take the blindfold, but I'm not sure about the cigarette. Dangerous to my health. On the other hand, it sure would be nice if they'd offer a Martini to go along with it.

  4. The only thing different that I said to Terry was HOT ZIGGETY!


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