In This Scene, Jess's Welcome Home Committee Chairperson Will Be Played By a Lake Effect Snow Storm

At 7:45 AM this morning I was sitting on my bed. I was eating a bowl of Life cereal. I was watching the news. The weather was on, and I was marveling at how strange the new weather mapping systems are here in Buffalo. The meteorologists have 3D maps, advanced tracking systems, special sensors, special imaging.

At 7:45 AM this morning the Buffalo meteorologists were on the television saying, "Well, this is what we can expect today, folks: rain. Rain, rain, rain, and lots of it. You see this yellow band pushing across the lake? That has the potential to bring with it some thunderstorms."

I chewed my Life cereal. I nodded at the TV screen. Rain. More rain. Thunder. Got it. I'd need the umbrella.

The meteorologists were saying, "Let's take a look at the afternoon map. See this break in the clouds right here? Well, there might be some pockets of afternoon sun!"

I turned off the TV. I knew all I needed to know. There would be rain and some afternoon sun. The sun would do me no good, because I would be right in the middle of an afternoon of nonstop teaching.

And so I put on my new dress coat. I tied my hair back. I slipped into my shoes. And off I went to school.

My office hours and first class passed uneventfully. By the time twelve-thirty rolled around, I was in with my second class of the day, and we were in the middle of discussing our process analysis essays when one of my favorite students—snarky and known to make comments at slightly inappropriate times due to what I assume is a raging case of ADHD—exclaimed, "Holy shit!"

I turned around, ready to tell him that it was most certainly bad form to yell "Holy shit!" in the middle of my lecture on process analysis, but he was pointing. He was pointing toward the window. And there, in between the blind slats, we could all see what was worthy of the holy shit. It was snowing. It was snowing a lot.

The snow was wet, sticky, and, well, sticking.

It is October 12th. October 12th!

The snow continued to fall all afternoon. It fell during my third class of the day. It fell during my office hours. It was still falling when I put on my coat, picked up my umbrella, and shouldered outside.

People were standing in the parking lot and looking at their cars. Just looking at them. It was hard to process, really. All that snow. I mean, a slick little coating I could've processed just fine, but the entire world was white, white, white, and my car needed to be brushed from top to bottom.

I didn't have a brush.

I threw my brush out on the move back to New York. It had survived three Minnesota winters and was pretty much dead. So I threw it out. Of course, I wasn't the only one who hadn't been prepared for the snow. Several cars down from me a girl was whacking her car with her umbrella. I popped my trunk, praying I had something in there that would do better than my umbrella or my hand. What I found was a miniature ice scraper Rachel had once given to me in the parking lot of the Coffee Klatsch after we had come off a marathon grading session. Whenever I use that scraper I think, Ohhh, Rachel. Today I put it in my hand and thought, Ohhh, Rachel. I also thought, What the fuck?

The snow was so wet and heavy that I had to use the scraper as a scoop to loft it off my car. Then I got inside. I was soaking wet and annoyed.



But at least I had good earrings. Still, that picture is what I looked like at 4:00 PM today, October 12th, 2006.

Cops were out directing traffic on the outskirts of the campus because the lights were out. Traffic on the major routes--of which I have to take three to get home--was bad. Visibility, at times, was nil.

The girl on the radio was talking to a meteorologist. "It's pretty bad out there," she said. "Didn't see that one coming, huh?"

"Not really," the meteorologist said.

"I think it's my fault," she said. "I just moved here. The lake effect wanted to show off."

"Yes," the meteorologist said. "I think it's safe to blame you."

But I knew better than that. I knew who to blame. Me. Blame me. Lake Erie has been cooking this one up since it heard I was moving home. It said, "Good to see you, Jess. It's been a long time. Welcome to October in western New York. Have a nice afternoon."



Six inches have fallen so far, and they say there's plenty more coming. They're also saying it's the earliest (and most intense) snowstorm we've had since 1873. One hundred thousand people are without power because the snow is just so wet it's taken down trees and power lines across the county. Eighty percent of the city streets are impassable. There's a travel ban. All Buffalo schools are closed tomorrow.

Out here in ski country, we're okay so far. The wind hasn't blown in our direction yet. But it's not that I don't think it will. It's possible, even though the map isn't showing that right now. After all, this morning we all thought it was going to be an afternoon of thunderstorms and downpours.

But out here in ski country we've got it covered. One of the best parts about moving home is this: the wood stove. Right now we have a bright blaze crackling behind the glass plate of the stove, and there's cherry wood burning inside. It's sending its fragrant smoke into the night sky. It smells and feels like Christmas vacation. There's a part of me that thinks I am going to wake up tomorrow morning and look out to see a world of white, and then I'm going to go straight into the kitchen, make myself a big mug of hot chocolate, and sit in front of the stove for a long, long, long time. Even if it is only October 13th.