First REAL snow, December 9, 2020

 

About two inches of snow have fallen on Nanticoke as of 1:00 this afternoon. Crunchy snow. Good snowball and snowman snow.

I was not ready. The car snow brush was buried deep in the car under numerous items that have been purchased and never brought into the house, toilet paper and paper towels and cat pads.

Nanticoke was ready. Streets were well-plowed as I took my mom to this morning's appointment.

Whoever was responsible for the Sans Souci - not sure if that's Hanover Township or the state of Pennsylvania - was not ready. The road was for the most part unplowed. I white-knuckled it at twenty miles per hour from the doctor's office to Michael Mootz Candies, one of the only stores I have allowed myself to enter in the last nine months. (I was the only non-employee in the store.) The drive back was a little better, but still terrifying.

Soon I have to go to work. I'll need to shovel the sidewalks tonight or tomorrow morning.

First snow, November 17, 2020

November 17, 2020. Nearly 250,000 Americans have died of COVID-19. Donald Trump continues to refuse to accept the results of the U.S. Presidential Election (he lost, for the record), refuses to allow transition activities to begin, and is in fact manipulating U.S. troops to create a crisis for Joe Biden the moment he enters office. Hospitals are overwhelmed. Thousands are lining up for food handouts.

And it snowed in Northeastern Pennsylvania for the first time this season.

Opening Day 2020: Rose of Sharon

For the record:  just like that, the dozens of Rose of Sharon in our yard have begun to open this afternoon, Sunday, July 12, 2020, with a great profusion of colors and shapes. They weren't open this morning, and they weren't open yesterday. Maybe yesterday's afternoon of intense ten-minute showers spaced out every 45 minutes followed by today's sunshine caused the blooms to pop open.

Pictures to follow, maybe.

UPDATE: I went out on 7/13/2020 to photograph the amazing variety of colors and shapes of these blossoms, and found that ONE Rose of Sharon had bloomed, with white blossoms with red centers. I thought I saw a pink one open yesterday, but it wasn't today. I'll try to note when the others open.

Daffodils up, March 31, 2019

I haven't blogged in a while. For...reasons. But I just stepped outside and remembered that I used this blog as a gardening almanac last year. The daffodils on the side of the house are up. They probably came up sometime in the last week. Maybe I'll get photos sometime soon.

Kralizek

In Frank Herbert's original Dune books, Kralizek was the "typhoon struggle at the end of the universe." That's the word that always comes to mind on days like today.

Others may consider it "very blustery," but to me these winds seem unnatural. In the past we would have a wind event once every few years, and its effects would be talked about for years. Last year we had several wind events, including one that put a shingle torn off a roof across the street through our front window, and another that spawned a tornado that destroyed or damaged businesses in and around the Arena Hub Plaza in Wilkes-Barre Township.

I don't know if these wind events have grown stringer and more common, or if we're just more sensitive to them now. I'm just hoping this one ends without causing too much damage.

Storm have mercy

So, the storm last night - err, this morning, was....not good.

I put the frost cover on my windshield when I got to work, anticipating some ice. Because so many people had bugged out early, I found a parking spot not too far from the entrance, meaning I would have fewer opportunities to fall and crack my skull when I got out around or after midnight.

I finally left about ten minutes after midnight. The walk to the car wasn't bad, but the car itself was coated in a thick layer of snow and frozen slush. I pried off the frost cover, leaving a clear windshield surrounded by a thick layer of wintry mix. After a few minutes of warming up, I was able to clear off the other windows, and remove as much ice as possible from the rest of the car. Satisfied I was as cleaned-up as I was going to get, I rolled out of the parking lot and onto the access road that leads to the road that goes to the exit that takes me to the road (the same road as the second one on this list, but going in the other direction) that takes me to the highway.

The first thing I saw was a smashed-up guardrail on the side of the road that had been intact earlier. Forewarned, I took it slow and steady the rest of the way. Speed limits on the highway had been reduced to 45 mph, and I did a comfortable 40 mph several car lengths behind a tractor-trailer. No one passed us the whole way to my exit. My exit took me onto a road that might have been plowed at some point during the storm, though it was hard to tell.Eventually I was driving in wheel ruts that straddled the center of the two-lane road. The parkway that leads to Nanticoke was in better shape, and I was able to make the uphill left turn towards home without fishtailing or crashing into any utility poles.

Finally I was home. I parked the car, caught my breath, and stepped out to put the frost cover on again - and nearly fell right on my ass. The street I was parked on was covered in a thick white layer of ice.

This morning I awoke to bright sunshine and the sound of melting snow dripping off the roof. Temperatures were in the high 40s by late morning. By the afternoon the sidewalks were mostly covered in slush that was easily shoveled up before it could get a chance to refreeze.

So what's next?

Snow today, ice tonight

We're expecting one to three inches of snow through this afternoon, followed by a brief pause, followed by ice tonight. So when I come out of work sometime after midnight, it will be to a car that is encased in ice, and fifteen miles of ice-covered roads between me and home. Lovely.

A song of snow and ice

That's pretty much what we had Tuesday into Wednesday: light snow, coated with sleet, sealed in with freezing rain. Fun times.

The all-hands meeting scheduled for Wednesday morning is postponed, so I can sleep in a bit. Then I have to haul out the garbage, shovel, and head in for day ten of ten.

Snowy birthday

The weather forecast for the first day of my fifty-first year (or is it the first day of my fifty-second year? I can never remember) called for snow today, and it wasn't wrong. The snow was supposed to start overnight, begin in earnest around 8:00 AM, carry on through the afternoon, and stop in the early evening - and darned if that wasn't what happened.

When I looked outside early this morning I thought the snow had stopped already, leaving us with just a dusting. But when I listened closely, I could hear the sizzling hiss that indicated that a fine snow was falling. The ride in to work wasn't particularly bad, but the snow continued to fall throughout the day, and the ride back home was much more challenging. This was for the most part a "sweepable" snow, provided you had a strong enough broom. In the end, the total snowfall in Nanticoke was somewhere between four and five inches.

Now comes the next phase of the storm: extreme cold. We'll see how these next few days go.

The coldest day

It's cold today. It was about two degrees Fahrenheit this morning, much colder than it was yesterday. But it's nowhere near as cold as it was on this date twenty-five years ago, on January 21, 1994, when temperatures dropped to the lowest ever seen in Northeastern Pennsylvania.  WNEP posted a video from 2004 that commemorated the ten-year anniversary of the event here:
Video Vault: Coldest Day (WNEP.com)

For more information, see here:
1994 North American cold wave (Wikipedia)

Long day, clear night

Today wasn't a bad day of training. During my last break I saw the end of of George W. Bush's eulogy at his father's funeral, and I was fairly impressed. He also did something at the end that I often do at poetry readings - he closed the book on his prepared notes as he was about to deliver his last line.

Donald Trump looked like he couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. In the clips I've seen tonight, I got the impression that Trump wasn't particularly interested in being somewhere where he wasn't the center of attention.

We've had two clear, sunny days in a row, I actually saw the Moon this morning - a thin, waning crescent, just about to vanish entirely into the "New" phase. Tonight was garbage night, which is always a hassle. But the sky is still clear, so I got to see Orion, the Pleiades, and quite a few other stars, constellations, and asterisms. (Also Mars, I think,low in the west around 10:00.)

Tomorrow is supposed to be another cold morning. I'm going to let the car warm up a bit more before I head out - the frost cover kept the windshield from frosting over, but the cold meant that frost started to form as soon as I pulled it off. Tomorrow night I'll do some "Secret Santa" shopping. I also promised to bring in some pies and cookies for our Christmas party. I think I'll try out the Eggnog Pie recipe.

The blank page

There are so many things I want to say. So much I want to write about, so much I want to preserve. But it seems that when I finally get the chance to blag each day, the time and the energy have slipped away. Even now, I have to get to bed in just a few minutes.

Thor is eating, and eating a lot. But his body is absorbing very little nutrition from the food he's taking in, and he's still losing weight. I will perform his first at-home hydration session on Friday.

My mom's chronic pain is getting worse and worse. She moans and groans with each step. I feel guilty about doing anything at all that isn't directly related to helping her, but there is almost nothing I can do that can help her. She is scheduled for knee replacement surgery in five weeks. I am hoping that does more good than harm.

Temperatures are supposed to slip well below freezing for the next few nights. I have a frost cover on the windshield. At least no snow or ice is expected - bad weather can easily double my commute. I still haven't pulled the tomato stakes out of my garden. Maybe this weekend.

Last week's Poems at the Pub was inspiring. Of all the poetry readings and open mics I've known and loved, this one is the most relaxing. The setting is beautiful and photographs very well. I don't know if I'll be able to make it to the next one in January, at least not for the whole reading, but I will try.

Time for bed.

In the aftermath of the mid-November 2018 storm

Yesterday's storm was a bad one. Even though everyone knew it was coming - from forecasters to PennDOT to everyday people - no one seemed to be prepared for how bad it actually was.

Traffic was snarled everywhere. Jackknifed tractor-trailers were the main problem, resulting in multi-hour traffic jams that caused some people to abandon their cars and walk home. Plow trucks were around, but many were driving with their plows up and salt spreaders off. Commutes that should have taken fifteen to twenty minutes took three to five hours. A bus trip from New York City to Scranton took nine hours.

Most of Northeastern Pennsylvania had accumulations of ten or eleven inches, give or take a few. By the morning the snow had been compacted by sleet and freezing rain and then had another layer of snow dropped on top of that. I wanted to get photos, but I didn't have time; I had to dig a path and dig out the car so I could take my mom to a doctor's appointment. The street where the car was parked was unplowed, making for some difficult maneuvering. The main roads of Nanticoke were in good shape, but driving through Wilkes-Barre was tricky: one block would be plowed clean, the next would be virtually untouched. Sometimes it seemed like snowplows must have stopped and reversed course, or simply turned around. By the time my mom's appointment was over, temperatures had risen above freezing, and the snow that had delicately outlined so many of the trees as we drove up had now melted away.

We now know the identity of the Pennsylvania Snow Camel. His name is Einstein, and he's from the Peaceable Kingdom Petting Zoo from Perkasie, near Quakertown in southeastern Pennsylvania.

This felt like one of the snowstorms we get later in the season, like the Valentine's Day storm of 2007 or the storm of March 14, 2017 (named "Stella" by The Weather Channel in their effort to brand winter storms for some reason), when people start to think "Oh, this Winter wasn't so bad, what was everyone worried about?", and then the storm comes around and kicks everyone in the face. But this was the opening act of the Winter of 2018/2019. How will the rest of the season go?

First snowstorm, November 15, 2018

On October 21 I observed the first snowflake of the season in Nanticoke - and pointed out that just a week before we had been running the air conditioning. Today we are in the midst of the first snowstorm of the season.

Just over seven inches at 8:15 PM

The snow started around midday, around the time I took my pre-Thanksgiving turkey out of the oven. It was snowing as I picked up our pierogi for Christmas Eve - three dozen each of potato, cheese, and cabbage. The forecast was for snow in the afternoon, followed by sleet and freezing rain overnight, changing back by snow in the morning and ending in the afternoon.  By the time I went outside to take a measurement of just over seven inches on the front porch at 8:15 PM, the sleet and freezing rain had already begun, possibly tamping down the snow a bit.

This isn't just a nuisance snow. There have been major accidents resulting in highway blockages. Someone working near where I will begin working in a little over a week, twelve miles from here, has been stuck on the highway for hours. Another person has been stuck at the exit for Nanticoke for over three hours. Trucks have jackknifed. Traffic is snarled. Camels have been spotted.

I'm tempted to go out and shovel now. But that would mean that the sleet and freezing rain would be falling on bare sidewalks, rather than on snow-covered sidewalks - potentially making it much harder to shovel in the morning. We'll see if I made the right decision.

Too short a season

Autumn came late after a long, hot, wet summer in Northeastern Pennsylvania. Usually the leaves begin to change color in mid-October, and the trees are mostly bare by early November. This year, many trees were still fully green after the third week of an unusually warm October.

Burning Bush, October 16, 2018

Nanticoke from Holy Trinity Cemetery, October 30, 2018

Then, suddenly, everything happened at once. Overnight temperatures dropped, a key factor in allowing color to develop. Rain fell, but the wind was gentle enough to not strip the trees bare. On October 30 most trees were showing at least some color. But then the skies cleared, the sun came out. By October 31 the landscape had been transformed, and Northeastern Pennsylvania was at peak color.

Burning Bush, October 30, 2018

And by November 2, it was past peak.

On November 4 I took my trip to the Lands at Hillside Farms. Along the way I passed mile after mile of trees mostly bare, or covered with dried and shriveling leaves. I wasn't expecting much as I took the left from 309 onto Hillside Road. But as I approached, I saw that Hillside Farms was still at peak color. I quickly realized I wasn't the only one who knew this: the parking lots were packed, and there was a line to get into the Dairy Shop.

The Lands at Hillside Farms, November 4, 2018

The Lands at Hillside Farms, November 4, 2018

By November 10 heavy rains and strong winds had stripped most of the remaining leaves from the trees. I filled three large bags from the leaves that fell from our Japanese Red Maple, which turned from their summertime maroon color to autumn shades or crimson, orange, and gold.

Burning Bush, November 10, 2018

Japanese Red Maple, November 10, 2018

Japanese Red Maple leaves, November 10, 2018

There were still some trees here and there in Nanticoke that were still holding onto their leaves. I don't know how much longer this will be the case. Just a few weeks ago, it looked like we weren't going to have any leaf color at all. What this season lacked in length, it made up in color.

The Lands at Hillside Farms, November 4, 2018

It was a beautiful day today.The weather is supposed to get worse as the week goes on - especially Tuesday. Tuesday is supposed to be cold and rainy and miserable. But you know what? Tuesday, November 6 is Election Day. It doesn't matter how bad the weather is - you get your ass to the polling place and VOTE.

Leaf color peaked in this part of Northeastern Pennsylvania on October 31. On October 30 we weren't quite there yet. By November 1 we were past peak. But on October 31 the leaf colors were bright and vibrant, the leaves were full and healthy-looking, and very few had dropped from the trees. By today, November 4, it seems that half the trees are bare, even ones that hadn't been showing a hint of color a week ago, and those leave that remain on the trees seem shriveled and faded.

I haven't been to The Lands at Hillside Farms in over a year. I hadn't seriously planned to visit there today. But the sky was blue, the sun was shining, and who knows if this might be the last beautiful day for a while? And when the next beautiful day comes around, will there be any leaves left on the trees? I decided I wanted to grab some photos, and The Lands at Hillside Farms seemed like the best place to do it.

A long-abandoned Victorian greenhouse.

All of the parking lots were full. People were driving around waiting for someone else to pull out.
There was a line to get into the dairy shop. I didn't stop in. Maybe some other time.

Alpaca with a lion cut.

Goat see-saw.

Some people had just walked by with a bag of popcorn, and this fellow brayed loudly that he wanted some.

Otis the Pig. I promised him last year that I would see him again. I didn't think it would be quite so long.

First snowflake

Well, it was more like a pellet of snow. It landed on the windshield as we pulled up at the house after church, and promptly melted. I saw one or two more farther away, but it wasn't enough to even be considered "flurries." If we were talking meteors, I would call it a "sporadic."

Yesterday I mowed the lawn. This morning I picked a tomato. A week or so ago we were running the air conditioner.

Summer in October

I attended the Fall 2018 edition of The Writers Showcase at the Olde Brick Theater in Scranton last night. It was a good turnout, and I got to catch up with some old friends. The readings ran until a little after 8:30, but I wound up hanging out and talking with my friends until nearly 10:00. Some of the things I heard - stories told to me in confidence - left me feeling like Hamlet's father's ghost.

But that I am forbid 
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, 
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, 
Thy knotted and combined locks to part, 
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. 

Speaking of which, there's a dead porcupine in front of my house, hit by a car. Poor woodland critter was probably forced out of its normal territory by the almost-complete local road project. It's been many years since I've seen a porcupine of any sort, alive or dead. There are quills blowing all over the street adjacent to the one with the dead fellow. I've never seen quills before, either. I picked a few up out of the road - they're clean, and I figured nobody else needed them right now.

Porcupine quills, approximately 3-5 cm (1.25 - 2 inches) long

It was a warmish night last night, no jacket required, which is unusual from the end of the first week of October in Northeastern Pennsylvania. Today is unseasonably warm, in the 80s with high humidity - weather more like summer than fall. This is apparently the new normal, and conditions are expected to get much worse as time goes by.

See full article here (Washington Post, October 8, 2018)

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change: 

Global Warming of 1.5 °C

an IPCC special report on the impacts of 
global warming of 1.5 °C above pre-industrial levels
 and related global greenhouse gas emission pathways,
 in the context of strengthening the global response to the threat of climate change,
 sustainable development, and efforts to eradicate poverty

Mowing accomplished

I was finally able to mow the lawn after at least three weeks. In some parts of the front lawn, which receives the most sun, the grass was close to a foot tall. And even though the dew had burned off and it hasn't rained in a few days, the grass clippings were damp - water-fat, from a long, wet summer - and kept choking the lawnmower. The back lawn went much faster.

There's probably one more mowing left for this year. Maybe two. One year I did the final mowing in November.

I may be working on a poem about two women who drowned while trapped in the back of a van on Tuesday night when they were being transported from a mental evaluation to another facility in South Carolina. The two sheriff's deputies who were driving them - and apparently made the decision to drive around barriers and onto a flooded and worsening stretch of road - were able to extricate themselves. But the women - conscious and talking, but trapped - drowned in the back of that van,in the cold waters of the Little Pee Dee River. It's a story that fills me with such outrage that a poem may be the only way to produce anything coherent.

And just like that, it was cold

It won't last. But suddenly, the steamy tropical weather in the 80s has turned into cold rainy weather in the 50s. It's not quite Irish weather, but it's close. Temperatures are supposed to be back in the 80s in a few days, and we may even get hit with a hurricane in the coming week. Whatever the temperature, this has turned out to be a wet summer.