Snow Day Turns Into Snow Week!

I am back home after four days in Seattle, looking at the sunny blue skies through the cedars unencumbered by the fabled snow that was supposed to bring this state to its frozen little knees. We are kind of at halftime right now-- the first round of our “major snow event” has come and gone, hitting Capital Hill with a Chicago-worthy blast of powder while sparing the northend and the bottom of the hill altogether. Sometime—anytime, really, round two is supposed to hit, and depending on where the arctic low front and the storm collide could mean anything from 6-10 inches of snow to just a load of unpleasantly cold rain.

After my fear of snowpocalypse 2012 drove me out of the city, it seems that most of the meteorologists have scaled their doomsday predictions back and are just laying in wait like the rest of us to see what unfolds. Even though I can't say for certain what the second half of Snowmaggedon holds, there is a very high probability it will include huddling around a fire after the power goes out at my mom's place and trying to read by the light of our Coleman lantern. Or not. One of the beauties of Snow Day is you never know what exactly is in store. But at least I can tell you how the first phase of Snow Day went down. Like all of my favorite holidays, it involves copious amounts of song, snow, and food.

Saturday I was sick and spent a pretty satisfying afternoon drinking tea while laying in bed and watching Firefly. I certainly would have been fine vegging there until I was back to full health but I had plans to go to Seattle for karaoke and who am I to deny Jamie and her friends the chance to hear my sultry, sinus-y rendition of “Living on a Prayer” just because I felt like total shit? No one, that's who. I put a bra on, slapped on some eye make-up, and caught the boat. I should have sensed something was brewing when I had to run back into the house for gloves and a hat, but it wasn't until pulling up next to the ferry's paybooth that word reached me about the incoming snow. The woman jerked the sliding window open a few inches, a wrist emerged that physically shuddered from the cold, and a voice came through the tiny gap, “I think tonight it's meant to come down hard. Are you sure you're prepared?” before handing me back my card and slamming the window shut. But my last three winters were spent in Illinois. I didn't think twice about it.

Off the boat and I head to Super Deli Mart, the new mecca of microbrews and other fancy schmancy beers that masquerades as a neighborhood bodega just on the other side of the ferry. I have a schooner of a Dogfish Head Belgian style ale while shopping and make off with some cider and this super schmancy stuff. 

Russian River Supplication Sour Belgian

Conversations about the snow-to-be and Saturday night escape plans filled the shop. The Seattleite in me started second guessing my trip.

Once parked by Jamie's house on capital hill, the snow was out of mind. We had two hours in a Japanese style karaoke room at Rock Box that reminded me of Hawai'i and our frequent escapes to the air-conditioned booths when the temperature got too hot (read: over 84 degrees). I ordered spam musubi for the occasion but neglected to sing Alicia Keys. I did, however, sing some pretty shitty Adele, amongst other things. Ryan stole the show with his tambourine skills and new-friend Matt actually had a voice on him, so it wasn't all cracking high notes and giggles in there (which, I suppose, is a good thing).

photo courtesy of Jamie!

Booze plus loopy sicky feeling meant staying the night at Jamie's rather than driving to the ferry and when I awoke, what do you suppose greeted me?

What a cute little Seattle amount of snow, I thought. I gave it no mind and just four blocks away at Cafe Vita nothing was sticking to the ground. Smug Val. I conquered the Rockies! This can't phase me. I would just wait for Jamie to get back from taking Ryan to the airport and hang out with her for a bit before leaving for Port Orchard. And why not?

Alright, that's a fair reason.....

We got about two inches in one hour! It was crazy! And not just this slushy Seattle snow, but real, powdery, MIDWEST-STYLE snow. It kept coming, too.

But we are optimists and this snow brought us a lot of joy. We walked through Seattle U's campus, past pick-up snowball fights and brightly dressed Baptist preachers whose awesome all-purple suits and gigantic hats perfectly popped against the clean-white backdrop of untrodden snow. Jamie and I decided to hope Seattle's fear of wintry weather would keep people indoors and headed to the usually impossible Skillet for brunch, where we were greeted immediately with a table that overlooked the slip-sliding street. Cars began to struggle on the incline and we basically decided over some snowday biscuits and gravy that I was going to be spending another night on the Hill rather than even attempt to drive. Casey came over to wait out the storm, too, and after watching some old school Leo we got to work on yet another snowday meal. Sea-Tac's one de-icer meant Matt had an entire day in the airport only to wind up getting put on a flight out the next day, so he, along with neighborhood buddy Taylor, joined us for a heavy snowday dinner. I had been black-boxed: make a meal, Jamie says, of butternut squash, kale, peas, carrots, celery, snowman and snowflake shaped pasta, and here was the result. Delicious!

My car gets bundled up.

I was still feeling kind of crummy, though chances are that had a lot to do with wearing the same clothes for two days running and not having a toothbrush. Either way I dosed myself with some Nyquil and had some wacky, cough-free, dreams. Then I woke up and made pancakes. Snowday!

Jamie worked from home as I watched the snow fall and read The New Yorker. She made some carrot and apple juice which, along with my little cutie pie from High Five Pie and coffee, served as my lunch.

I probably could have chanced it and made it to the ferry without hitting one of the icy side streets, but instead, and after much waffling, I decided to stay another night in Seattle. I joined Jamie for a yoga class, which dissipated my jitters and then made us Japanese curry, which I have been trying to feed this girl for at least ten years. Success!

And while I was on the phone she made oatmeal cookies!

We were all supposed to have happy hour tonight but NPR's Steve Scherr succeeded in scaring the almighty shit out of me as I drove on the relatively clear streets to U-District. From the sound of it, we should have been blanketed with twice the amount of our average annual snowfall by noon, so I simply got coffee and hopped on the highway towards the boat. Like I said, it is all clear blue skies in these parts. Steph is now making some spaghetti squash and meatballs, so at least snowday fare lives on even if the rain decides to come instead!