Snow and the Space at the Top of the Stairs

 It's still snowing as I write this.

Look, I've lived in Minneapolis. I know what "real" snow looks like, what "real" cold feels like. The snowstorm we're having (it looks to be at least 4 inches, probably much more) doesn't reach "significant" on a Twin Cities scale. But here in Southern Louisiana City, it's--well, we're getting more than I've ever seen in this state.

It's beautiful, sure. Our interstate is just outside my bedroom window. I never don't hear the constant hum-rumble (sometimes a vibration I feel) of cars and trucks going 24/7. I can see it from my window. It's silent now, an eerie sensation. 

Hopefully I can find my old Lego snow speeder and take some fun shots in the snow.

But at this point, with heavy snow scheduled for the rest of the day, I'm getting a little worried.

I hope the power holds. I hope people stay off of roads.

I hope our unhoused population finds some warm refuge. 

I think about all the time and money I spent looking for a heated mat for our outdoor cat on Sunday. I found one--extra-large--for an exorbitant price. It fit into the cardboard box we set up for her under a heat lamp. We plugged it in, waited, and found it didn't work. She's making due (happily) with the heat lamp and a medical heating pad we had.

And then I think of the unhoused person sleeping at the top of a staircase at our church on Sunday. We let her be--she's a friend of the church, and we're happy to turn a blind eye to let her get out of the wind when she can. We have funds to help folk, and do help unhoused people get food. But we're not set up to offer shelter. We don't keep buildings heated when no one's there. The regulations for our preschool/afterschool preclude us from allowing just anyone into spaces. 

All of these excuses ring pitiful and self-serving in the face of the record-low temperatures we're to get tonight: 9 degrees. That's significant even by Minneapolis standards. And I don't think the city has plans or means to accommodate folk without access to heating. 

I can't even leave to bring supplies to the relatively sheltered spaces at church due to the roads.

But I spent hours finding supplies for an outdoor cat. That's not without value, I know. But in no way can the plight of a stray cat compare with people suffering without shelter. Baton Rogue, like so many other places, has decided that unhoused people need to be put out of sight rather than helped.  I'm not single-handedly responsible for housing the unhoused. I can't snap my fingers and force the city in to funding and maintaining workable shelters, building more affordable housing, or de-stigmatizing poverty and need. 

But surely I could have found a plug-in pad that worked or step up a heat lamp for a space at the top of the stairs.

I hope the snow ends soon. I hope the sun returns. 

May God who sees all grant these beloved ones warmth and care, and my God forgive me for not participating in that providence. Help me do better, Lord.

Long Weekends and Coming Ice/Snow Storms

 Hurrah for Friday! 

It's a three-day weekend already, with MLK Day on Monday. And then, just today, my southern university announced its closure for Tuesday as well, perhaps extending into Wednesday. Mirabile dictu: snow! Or . . . ice, maybe? In any case, freezing temperatures will sweep down into the swamp lands, terrorizing us warmbloods with lows in the mid-teens. They tell us we're sure to awaken Tuesday morning either to a winter wonderland--3-6 inches (!!) of snow--or a winter nightmare: several inches of freezing rain destined to paralyze traffic, down power lines, and sheathe every surface with a coating of ice. 

We don't know which we'll get on Monday night/Tuesday morning. Snow would be lovely! I haven't seen accumulated snow here in over a decade. Ice would be dreadful. Our infrastructure--never a strong point in my cherry-red state--protects against flood, not ice. I think of all the hanging oaks in our neighborhoods, with their gnarled, tentacular branches extending outward in every direction. Beautiful! Shady! Add inches of ice, though, and each limb becomes a potential bomb ready to crash down from the sky. 

And the driving! I'm typing from the second floor of my house, and still I wonder if I'm far enough away from the roads to be safe. From my bedroom windows, I can see and hear the constant traffic of the interstate, which cuts through town almost completely elevated. Friends who have lived here longer than I tell of an ice storm in the nineties that shut it all down. You know those signs that say "Bridge may ice in cold weather?" The interstate here is almost all bridge, and in that storm (and perhaps in next week's storm), it was almost all ice.

A worse possibility lurks, my meteorological friends tell me, in a dreaded ice/snow combo: an inviting, snowy surface hiding (and insulating) a nasty layer of ice. Thanks to the snow, the ice stays, melting only a bit under the sun and mixing with the wet snow, only to re-freeze overnight Tuesday/Wednesday.

Snow or ice, we will have a hard time either way, methinks. My partner has an MRI scheduled early Tuesday morning. I have a dentist appointment later that day. I suspect both may need rescheduling--a much bigger deal for the MRI, of course. 

We'll be in a worse fix, though, if the power fails. A few years ago, my sister and brother-in-law up in Oklahoma City endured three weeks without power thanks to an ice-storm decimating main powerlines into their neighborhood. They invested in a natural-gas-powered generator that guarantees they stay toasty no matter what. We have nothing of the sort here (no natural gas hookups). Our only comfort lies in the fact that our freezes don't last long. Temperatures inevitably rise. But it could be a tough few days for us and the cats.

Oh, well. 

Meanwhile: I'm preaching next Sunday! More on that later.