Michael and I thought that dubbing the storm that hit Washington as “Snowmageddon” was funny, and we started coming up with our own tags while we were driving to and from a Baraboo fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity.
Michael’s and my bit of fun inspired me.
You see, Dick and I plow and snow blow the railroad during the winter, and our e-mails back and forth about timing of our efforts have been pretty mundane — “RGN Snow”. So I’m planning to up the ante a bit, naming the snows in the spirit of “Snowmageddon”.
For example, the next few will be:
And then, of course, since winter in Wisconsin is, well, winter in Wisconsin, we’ll probably have to move on to more names before the Silence of the Lambs comes in mid-April, so we can work through things like
Curse of …
Bride of …
Son of …
I think that by the time we work through all the permutations, we’ll make it through the winter.
Catastrophic snow-naming is apt for the railroad.
Dave, who was/is the railroad’s general manager, is a huge drama queen, painting every event in at the railroad in heroic, epic terms. Volunteers work night and day overcoming daunting obstacles while performing seemingly routine maintenance, and Dave’s reports to the membership range from breathless to vibrating.
Weather, in particular, clicks Dave’s clock. This winter, Dick and I have become, in his imagination, “Snow Dogs”, cleaning up six inches of has become “How do you spell blizzard?”, and so on. Dick and I are writ large.
The railroad always seems to get three times the snowfall of the surrounding area. Or so it is said …
So I’m a bit surprised that Dave hasn’t already come up with a catastrophic naming scheme. Maybe he is so busy putting in 30-hour days that he doesn’t have much time left over for watching horror flicks.
In any event, we got about an inch of snow in this area last night, which means that I’ll have to head over to the railroad to clear off a foot of snow later this morning. Easy enough for a Snow Dog.