What a weekend it was in Maine!  Fear and anxiety built all week as the weather puppets predicted a Valentine’s blizzard starting Saturday evening and churning its way through Monday morning.  Another two feet of snow?  Where would it go?

Blizzard or no, on Friday (“Galentine’s Day”) I picked up a chuck roast at Bisson’s Meat Market on the Meadow Road in Topsham.  Sunday dinner for my parents; I told them if the going got bad, I would drive over to pick them up.  On Saturday, when I left my French singing gig at La Basilique in Lewiston, the flakes had started.

I quickly shoveled up the inch or two of snow that had fallen and hunkered down for the evening.  I set my alarm clock for 4:00 a.m., to start the roast and give the driveway the first clearing.  If we were going to get as much snow as predicted, I’d need to monitor the accumulation carefully.

I slept fitfully.

When the alarm went off, I jumped out of bed and peered out the dining room window.  Barely an inch or two of snow had fallen.  I scanned Twitter for updates, but the weather personalities I follow were either sleeping or hiding.  Finally, I found a picture of the weather map.  The storm had changed course for our part of Maine!  Life would go on!

I went back to bed for a brief cat nap and when the sun came up, I was dusting off the driveway.  Relieved, I even did a little snow shoeing.

It’s not quite as impressive as last year’s heart, but a good workout nevertheless.

The roast was just what was required as the zephyr winds picked up by mid-afternoon.  There was a chocolate parfait, too.  And a photo opportunity.

After my parents left, I snow shoed down to the river and watched as the sun started sinking in the west. Little snow cyclones danced over the frozen water and I could hardly make out the Cedar Pond Road in Durham. I hustled back home and looked at my watch. 5:30 p.m.  Snow or wind or chuck roast, we are gaining daylight.

Happy Saint Helentine’s Day!