Because I want to be the last human being on the planet without a digital camera (and the very last patron of films and film-processing labs), I cannot bring you any pictures of the dazzling, blinding whiteout that surrounds home and office. So, here is the "one-five hundredth" you want to see: twenty inches.
The wife wakes up, pulls up the blinds on a little window that overlooks a large ice-covered field and a calm, frozen pond, and goes "hwwooooh!".
By some peculiar timing, PBS was running that docu on Richard Proenneke.
Even though the schadenfreude-loving Weather Channel tells me this is a bad, bad storm, I somehow remember Blizzard '03 as being much worse. While we didn't have to battle the elements that Mr. Proenneke did, we were stranded for 2 days without a single drop of alcohol in the house.