As you know, I live in the Pocono Mountains. Grew up here. Love it.
But ever since we moved back here 30 years or so ago, I’ve noticed something strange: people seem to think they’re living in California.
We always got a lot of snow here in winter. It’s what we expected, prepared for, enjoyed, at least the kids did. We didn’t have school closures unless we got, like, 4 feet overnight or sump’n. My father never once closed his medical office because of snow, and since he was the only doctor for miles, the township ploughed out our mile-long private lane. Big trucks, four in the morning. Armies of the night,they mobilized when we got lotsa snow, and they kept working until everybody could get around . That was just…life in the winter months.
There may have been a couple years when the snowfalls were more sparse, the ski resorts were hurting. But really, most of the winters since I’ve been back here have been pretty snowy.
Now, a snowstorm is coming, and our area may get—brace yourself—a FOOT! Or even a foot plus 2 inches. All kindsa establishments, even our furnace repair company, are sending out premonitory emails that they do not intend to open Monday. It goes without saying that schools willl be closed. I mean, nowadays the schools have delayed starts when it’s even COLD. Duh.
Here on our plateau, we used to be good at dealing with snow. Township crews were prepared, knew what to do, did it. Just, y’know, get it outta the way. No big deal.
How could we FORGET how to deal with it? Why do we no longer just expect it, prepare for it?
Any other dear polymaths in the path of the coming Snowmageddon: enjoy it!
