Two Saturdays ago, my girlfriend Barbara endured a brutal 5-hour drive from southern Maryland just so we could spend the weekend together. The following weekend, meteorologists nationwide predicted a blizzard of hellish proportions would touch down. We both agreed it would be best if I were the one doing the driving this time. (Note from the eds: How quickly we forget …)
I picked her up Friday at the library where she works, just as the snow was starting to fall. Then we hunkered down and didn’t see the outside world for a while thereafter. Here’s a numerical summary of our weekend:
- 90 minutes spent driving from my office in Baltimore to Barbara’s workplace in Prince Frederick.
- 1 last-minute trip to a positively mobbed liquor store/supermarket.
- 24 approximate inches of snowfall outside the house.
- 7 hours spent shoveling snow on Saturday and Sunday.
- 8 delicious home-cooked meals.
- 150 degrees Fahrenheit in the den, where the wood-burning stove is located.
- 6 movies watched (“Eegah,” “Pootie Tang,” “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” “Blades of Glory,” “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” “The Darjeeling Limited”)
- 2 music games played on the Wii (The Beatles: Rock Band, Guitar Hero World Tour)
- 750 milliliters in the bottle of Veuve Clicquot that Barbara and I split during the Super Bowl. (What, doesn’t everyone drink champagne while watching football?) (Note from the eds: Only if you’re in New Orleans!)
- 3 wonderful evenings with my better half, during the worst Mid-Atlantic winter storm in years.