It's my second winter here in the desert.
I remember back in elementary school at some point I was told that not all deserts are hot all the time. Sometimes they are bitterly, bitterly cold and their desert status is measured only in their available water to the little critters living in them. By these standards the ice fields of Antarctica rate as deserts as all available water is not available at all, being locked tightly away in solid form as ice or snow.
These tiny bits of knowledge creep up on me every once in a while, usually not helpful at all. I was delighted by the fall in Spokane, a bit of rain here in there and not too much. Bunches of colors from the large decidious tree population. And now this...
I really should have seen it coming, I mean, it is winter every year here. It's just that after all of the hype that last year's winter was the worst winter in (fill in blank here with number of years you were alive minus two or three just to be safe and not claim that you witnessed a blizzard as a fetus) years. I was hoping that the law of averages would kick in, and my fond desert would only become more autumnish and maybe, just maybe only slightly colder. No such luck. Instead we have a fresh group of folks stating that this is the worst winter in X years again. Except what's disturbing is I no longer have 20 or 30 somethings telling me this. Now it's the old-timers peering at me from behind their snow-ridden bifocals and genuine beaver pelt hats muttering about the Old Gods of Wrathful Winter. This tends to up the ante a bit.
So thusly, if the law of averages decides to be in effect next winter, it will be a balmy 65 degrees and hopefully I'll be complaining about the heat, but I can only hope. On the flip side, I'm learning more valuable winter skills that I'd like to pass on to my friends, specifically those on the westside who only have to deal with winter about every other year or so and work with inches of snow, instead of feet.
1. Buy snowshovels in pairs, like shoes. Why, you ask, should I purchase two shovels living by myself. Well that's a fine question. Firstly, most of us don't truly live alone, as we are visited often by friends, relatives and that pesky significant other. Not having another shovel is the number one reason they use to get out of helping you shovel and this rule quickly negates that. Nothing improves shoveling morale like watching somebody else suffer, so what's an extra fifteen bucks?
2. Plan your shoveling carefully. In the best situation, you should always shovel downhill and never shovel over what you have already shoveled. The exception being stairs, where it's often beneficial to work from the bottom up. Size up your shoveling situation step by step. As a plus, standing outside holding hot cocoa and leaning on your shovel while carefully contemplating your first moves counts as shoveling work and helps delay painful backbreaking labor. Also, if you don't have a pattern and use the random-attack method, it often leads to re-shoveling where the snow has just fallen and that quickly leads to raising a fist to the sky and shaking it or attacking snow with your bare hands in frustration, etc.
3. The snow plow is a love-hate relationship. With snow coming down in feet, transportation cannot be taken for granted. Cabin fever can be lethal for one or more of your housemates even if it's only one or two days. It's not unusual for folks to crowd the streets as a plow trundles by as if the plow has just freed their street from the invading Nazi army. On the other hand, with the same movement that has made your street passable, the plow has now neatly created a nice wall of snow directly in front of the driveway you so neatly shoveled. This leads to reshoveling and more shaking of the fist at the sky. Also, if you've neglected to move your car off the street, it is now an impenetrable fortress of ice. You will note that the plow does not just blow snow to the side, but neatly compacts it before depositing. Those nice snow poofs that were slinging so slightly off of your shovel are now iceberg chunks. Hooray!
Hopefully these will help you out. However, as most west-siders don't own a snowshovel or have seen a snowplow, you'll just have to save these tidbits of information for when they are helpful. For instance making sure your buddy only has one shovel before visiting him for the holidays.
...sigh
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