Not to put too fine a point on it, but Christmas so far this year has been a total wash. Beginning mid-day Friday “Snowmageddon 2022” (a weather phenomena known as a ‘weather bomb’) was officially upon us, which immediately set forth in motion a chain of most unfortunate events that would play out over the next three days, all culminating with the same tragic and very unfestive outcome: Christmas is fucked.
However, rather than bore you with the endless minutiae of detail that at times reads like a genuine comedy of errors, here are but a few snippets from my journal over those fateful 72 hours:
Friday, Dec.23rd (1:26pm) – Made it home through near white out conditions from St. Catharines. Lucky to be alive.
Friday, Dec.23rd (3:34pm) – Power is now out already but thankfully the generator has kicked in and we are warm and safe. Cable/Internet are out however, so there’s good chance the girls might not make it to see Christmas morning.
Saturday, Dec.24th (1:11am) – Generator is out. FML.
Saturday, Dec.24th (6:37am) – Good lord is it fucking shitty outside. I’m pretty sure a witch in a parka just flew by on a broomstick. Hot coffee and tea was graciously provided this morning by our thoughtful neighbour across the street (Heather, “the Protectress of Charlotte Street”) and thankfully Danny, “Master of Machines” was also able to get us back up and running again, and with the assistance of an extra extension cord we can even listen to our Christmas records. HUZZAH!
Saturday, Dec.24th (10:17am) – Generator is out again. FMLx2.
Saturday, Dec.24th (11:44am) – We are temporarily without power as the combined mechanical expertise of our entire neighbourhood (myself excluded of course) cannot fix the generator currently, especially given the extreme conditions outside (it’s still shitty). I’m also pretty sure I left a frozen finger in the generator outside. Hailey continues to soldier on without her TikTok. (I’m sure the Chinese are getting suspicious at Hailey’s absence from social media by now)
Saturday, Dec.24th (6:24pm) – Christmas dinner consists of a bowl of Chicago Mix and a lime Bubly.
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:40am) – Slept for nearly 12 hours because, what else is there to do? Hailey is alive but largely unresponsive in the absence of seven second videos about kitty cats and teen fashion trends. Thankfully there’s more hot coffee from our thoughtful neighbours and the hope that now that the storm has finally broken, we can get a good enough look at the generator and get it going until our services are properly restored.
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:53am) – It’s working!
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:54am) – No it’s not.
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:55am) – Yes it is! Hallelujah!
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:56am) – Nope. It’s not.
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:57am) – It’s wor…
Sunday, Dec.25th (7:58am) – Cancel that. We’re fucked. And in other news, a portion of our brand new vinyl fence is now likely blowing around somewhere over James Bay.
Sunday, Dec.25th (9:54am) – And now we can add bailing ice cold water out of our basement sump pit to the daily roster of fun holiday things to do. Shoot me. Breakfast is a packet of Dad’s oatmeal cookies.
Monday, Dec.26th (2:12am) – More bailing. Water beginning to seep up through basement floor. Good times.
Monday, Dec.26th (7:41am) – Danny has miraculously hooked up with a gas generator (and Heather with more hot coffee) so that we can at least power our sump pump once more and prepare the first hot meal we’ve had in three days. Grilled cheese with bacon and eggs? Why not.
Monday, Dec.26th (3:13pm) – Enjoyed first hot shower in 72 hours. Glorious. Going across the street to Heather and Danny’s for drinks and a decent holiday meal. Feeling very thankful.
Sounds like good times, amiright?
(I mean, that last part is okay, sure, but the rest definitely sucks balls)
What it all ultimately boils down to is that this wasn’t exactly the holiday season we were looking forward to. In the news, this recent winter storm is being hailed as the “Storm of the Century”, with comparisons already being made to the ‘White Death of ‘77’ which struck this area in, well, 1977.
Duh.
Between Friday, January 28th and February 1st 1977, 50 mile per hour winds blew the heavy snow atop Lake Erie wildly around the region, coating the surrounding 16,000 square kilometres – including my little community of Merritton located on the southern outskirts of St. Catharines. The snow accumulated into enormous drifts as it blew, burying everything from cars to bus stops in 20 to 40 foot mounds of snow. This was more than your average “snow day.”
This was the ‘Great Blizzard of 1977’ – not that my mom gave two shits, of course.
I remember on the Monday, after three days of being completely house bound and inevitably driving our poor mother crazy, our little asses were going to school. It didn’t matter that buses still weren’t running, that the snow drifts were more than three times the size of our little five years old bodies, or that the school was located at the very tippy top of the formidable Niagara Escarpment, approximately a three kilometre march uphill from our homes …
Get moving!
We fought against the towering drifts, scaled mountains of snow, at times nearly being buried ourselves after attempting to tunnel our way through snowdrifts the size of pyramids.
The struggle was real.
By the time we arrived at the front steps of the school, our snow suits had become %100 saturated and drenched with snow, our boots were sloshing, our fingers and toes numb; snot was frozen to our cheeks in large green icicles. We also arrived just in time for school to end, only to be turned away and have to make our way back home again through the very same pathway we had been tunnelling for the past five hours.
When we ultimately made it home just in time for bedtime, my mother had all but called out the National Guard.*
I would like to say that I fared much better this time around, especially seeing as how I’ve seen The Day After Tomorrow at least a hundred times by now, but it was largely only in thanks to my amazing neighbours as there were definitely times here when it felt very, shall we say ‘overwhelming’ – clearly I am no Jack Hall, celebrated paleoclimatologist. Are the pipes going to freeze? Will we be warm enough tonight? Is anyone getting our messages? Will the power come back on today? I wonder how everyone else is faring? Surely the Chinese will send help soon, won’t they?
Bring on Easter as far as I’m concerned.
God help me.
God Help Me! 