The Capital Weather Gang has informed me that there is a major winter storm on its way to wallop Washington DC starting late this evening and continuing through Sunday. Gee I love snow. For the first five or six hours it’s like a magical winter playground with vast pristine white landscapes and a city quieted by a blanket of heavy fluffy stuff. Then, after the four hundredth toboggan ride, the last snow fort and the tenth cup of hot cocoa things start to take a turn for the worst.
Though my house is not as vast or nearly as creepy as the Overlook, I start looking like Jack Torrence about mid way through the first day.
The novelty wears off even more when the local dogs relieve themselves on the snowmen we spent hours building and the plows come through adding chemicals, dirt and a substance I have yet to identify.
D.C. is notorious for shutting down completely when more than four flakes fall consecutively and forget about driving. Panic consumes nearly every resident as we all scramble to buy the last gallon of milk and swipe a shovel from the woefully understocked Home Depot.
Having grown up in New York, I have had more than my fair share of snow but now that I’m old and in danger of breaking a hip in an unfortunate fall, I’m all about the tropics.