Snow Day Delivered

Sort of.

Here on the Texas Gulf Coast, we usually have pretty temperate winters. The past few years of global warming, though, has sullied our reputation. We’ve had some frost, which was a welcome treat when I was a kid. In 1973, we even had a real snow, which I vividly remember because Kelly Hutchinson made a “snow burger” scraped from a teacher’s car. And he ate it, road film and all.

In 2004, we had the fabled “Christmas Eve Blizzard of ‘04” where we got up to 10 inches of the white stuff on the ground. There have been other instances of snow and ice storms throughout history down here. And the past couple of years have shown us some snow that actually accumulated. Even in 2009, we endured a spate of real winter.

Fine.

I think we’re jealous of all the snow and ice and blizzarding that is happening up in the Midwest and East, and the Newsmakers decided that we were going to clip off a bit of that for ourselves. Predictions were made, as were expensive preparations. Roads were sanded and preemptively de-iced. Schools and businesses sat on pins and needles trying to decide whether or not to close on Thursday night or Friday. All of my students were wondering if we were going to meet for Thursday night. I told them to check the web, but I think it ain’t gonna happen. “But the news said….” To which I gave my standard reply, “put it outta yer mind.”

Even normally level-headed Alvin ISD was preparing; they cancelled after school extracurricular activities for Thursday. Later I found out that they closed for Friday.

All the predictions were that Thursday was to bring icy winds, sleet, freezing rain and yes, snow! This was due to commence at noon. Then three. Then five. Then overnight. OK, I get the picture.


The super-trustworthy guardians of the information that we rely on to live our lives safely have been proven again. You’ll notice I didn’t say that they’d been proven right or wrong. That’s not the point, really. They have been proven to be what they be: hyper-active Peter-and-the-Wolfers aching for a story, especially weather-driven.

Sure enough, I woke up not to a winter wonderland, but to the hope that maybe the weeds in the yard will die form surprise. As you can see, we do have icicles and, uh, some possible damage to the important clover crop. There was a thin glaze of ice on everything that was not made out of concrete. As I surveyed the “damage”, I nearly slipped on a root that was coated in ice. Oh, and the rain gauge was frozen over. And when I picked up the black plastic trash bag to put it out by the curb, it’s icy skin crunched and crackled. The cars looked like they are sculpted out of ice for a crappy car show.

That’s about it. I haven’t surveyed the entire town, and reports from the Soderberg Farm are still outstanding. The computer says that it is now 29° outside, but there are some standing waters in a dog dish and some in the street that stubbornly cling to their liquid state.

Hence the much-hyped and under-delivered “SNOW DAY” that we endured last night made “history”; if nothing more than to reinforce my distrust of the media. Even my 15 year-old, who spent the night at her friend’s down the street, texted me at about 8 this morning, “I’m glad I put it outta my mind”.