"Snowpocalypse"

I've discovered that when it snows in Newfoundland...it doesn't just sprinkle a little snow. I mean sometimes yes it might, but it quickly disappears. But when it wants to stick around for more than 24 hrs it dumps. We all knew it was coming, the weather network had warned us about 10 cm's of snow falling. However I had forgotten how much 10 cms really was before stepping out the front door this morning. I was met with an unusual windless morning and a curtain of falling snow that made it difficult to see the intersection near Tim Hortons I could usually spot coming out the front door. My first step into the blanket of snow that covered our front porch, Angie's footsteps having completely vanished (Angie having left no more than forty minutes before me), disappeared under the whiteness and I was glad to have bought tall winter boots before Christmas. Upon returning home this afternoon I found drifts coming past my knees and cringed at the thought of shoveling off the drive. Leaving it for another hour or two I finally came out in the warm weather, the snow having stopped falling and the wind hardly blowing. It took me an hour to shovel off our tiny driveway and by the end I could hardly throw the snow over the pile I had created on the corner of our yard as there appeared to be more snow near the road due to a drift. Shoveling the sidewalk was also important as that was what I used to get around and most people here seem to neglect that part of their property when it comes to shoveling. So spending a decent amount of time getting rid of the drift on the sidewalk I finally moved back inside with a sigh, pulling off my snow stuff only to hear the beeping of a backing up plow. Smiling I watched it as it moved around the close, glad that it was pushing the snow to the center area of our close off the streets. It wasn't until I'd pulled my boots and snowpants off that I looked back and looked with horror at the rather large pile of snow the plow had situated along the sidewalk I had just spent the majority of my time shoveling off. The feeling of anger and dread one feels when they just finish a task that takes precious time to do cannot be fully described in a blog. I rested my hot forehead against the window and glared out at the pile willing it to go away but found it sitting, not budging despite my willing of it away. Giving up on telepathy with a mindless substance I turned and ascended to my room to continue with homework that seems to have piled as high as the snow outside despite it only being the fifth day of classes. Fortunately for you all I have ignored that pile and am quickly writing this blog now. I figured I could justify it as I have to create a blog for reporting my research on Newfoundlander's conversations (on which I was encouraged to eavesdrop on) for my Newfoundland and Labrador Linguistics course. Among my other classes this one seems to be the most time consuming with quite a bit of reading, assignments and research of which I am thinking is going to be difficult with my lack of knowledge of locations in NL and how people sound from different places without asking them as to where they're from. However I cannot afford to drop this course and must push on. Christmas break was wonderful being back home with family, friends and Kiwi. Unfortunately I've come down with some sickness for the past three weeks and though it is getting better slowly each day, I still feel its toll on my body. I was sad to leave Alberta in such condition but had no choice as classes started up right after the New Year. It seems the blues have fallen over the house despite all our return as we realize our time of freedom has ended and we've been thrown back into the chaotic and hectic schedule of school and work. But without anymore delay I shall be off to start shoveling this pile of homework. I do hope all was well over the holidays for you and wish you all the best in the year of 2012.

And last but not least I have a saved quote from Angie for her statement part of the blog, having been describing someone to Liz and I as we sat around the table one evening in December. She came to the conclusion that the words "He's like a soggy corn pop" were the best in describing the guy she was telling us about.

Happy New Year!