A week ago, the three of us sat on the couch and watched home movies from when Finn was a toddler. We have fun footage of her bundled up outside after the snowfalls of 2009 when the accumulation was taller than she was, and it was a hoot to watch her waddle down the front walk, faceplant into the side of the snowbank, and lick the snow off her chubby cheeks. We haven’t had a snowfall of that magnitude since.

The current forecast is for a large snowstorm coming our way—the latest projections are for 6-12″ and at least an inch of ice to cap things off. Of course, the weather-guessers are predicting power loss and calamity, so everyone is panicking. My procrastination over buying a snowblower has proven to be wise up until now—and I have a seventeen-year-old with a strong back who can shovel for me while I recover from my snowboarding injuries. I am going to bring about six loads of firewood up to the back porch, warm up the generator, stock up on gasoline, and bring the coolers up to the house just in case, but I do hope we make it through without losing power.