My dear Tucson friend, Jill, texted me this morning and said, "Saw you have snow." Oh, if she only knew!
It's been snowing every day since last Friday, as I recall. When I left just after 5:00 yesterday afternoon for a 7:00 call* at Severance Hall, there was a snow cover in Youngstown of about 10 inches. It had been snowing off-and-on all day, but I was sure I would be fine.
Silly, Silly Southern Belle!
The 711 connector was fine. 680 was fine. The Turnpike was fine. 480 was fine. But then I got onto 271 and the commute when straight to hell. A snow-covered, salt- and plow-free hell! A standstill hell. The snow was coming down so hard that the plows could neither keep up with the snow or get through the traffic to clear the roads.
It. Was. Horrible. !!!
When I was on Chagrin, ready to turn onto Warrensville, it was 6:52. I know that because as I was sitting at the red light, I texted the chorus manager to say I would be 20 minutes late. It was the most incredibly stressful drive. And yet, as I checked Facebook updates of other commuting choristers at every stoplight, I saw that those who were driving in from Medina or Akron or the west side of Cleveland were having a much worse time than I. Several friends spent over five hours in their cars and never reached the hall.
I finally got to the hall—after narrowly avoiding crashing my car several times—at 7:20. When I got to the rehearsal hall, I quietly and slowly opened the door to keep from disturbing our director. Well, no one was warming up or rehearsing. There were 18 people seated in the hall. For this concert, the chorus numbered about 110. 18 people! As each new person staggered through the door, those already in their seats applauded. We have never so warmly greeted each other as last night!
Our manager threw away the seating chart. The orchestra manager delayed curtain from 8:00 to 8:15. We massed our normal five rows into three, and processed onto the stage, thankful for every person seated in the audience (about 1/4 to 1/3 of the normal audience size).
At intermission, we picked up another 20 singers who had arrived after curtain and added a fourth row for the second half.
And then I had to drive home. The streets in Shaker Heights and Beachwood had been plowed, so were easier to drive. But 271 only had one lane cleared, and the snow was just pelting me. And I was falling asleep.
After having left home just after 5:00, I got back home at 12:35.
After least I got home with car and body intact.
Your photo treat for today is the view (above) from my office and (below) from my kitchen. That's Jean and Marilyn's house and garden, completely totally overwhelmingly (at least for early November) covered with snow.
And they say there's a southern storm coming on Saturday. Argh.
*Vocabulary: If you don't know the term "call", this signifies the time a performer is to arrive at the concert venue or theatre, in place, ready to warm up. "Curtain" means the time the show is scheduled to begin.
I love daffodils. I don't love winter. I can endure a couple of months of cold weather, but after too many below-freezing days in a row, I start moaning and groaning and annoying everyone around me. But once the spring bulbs start picking their green shoots through the ground, I sense that I can make it through the cold; I can stand to don a coat for a few more days.
