Last night my brother came over late, taking a slow walk from his place to ours. Balaclava face mask hoodie, goggles with headlamps on both sides of the glasses, and hip waders. Let’s walk, he said. History in the making and he wanted to be in the mix of it. Couldn’t see two feet in front of his face, but no matter. Stay in the street and survey the neighborhood from the corner of the block. See what we can see.
Working tomorrow? Not a chance. The office building was officially closed shortly past 7 p.m. last night, even though the email notification didn’t reach my inbox before 9 a.m. this morning. So much for being part of the early notification warning system.
Morning: Have we broken the record yet? I don’t think so, but we’re getting close to the Blizzard of ’67 numbers. We had a friend stuck in his car on Lake Shore Drive for nine hours last night, before being rescued and led to a warming CTA bus. Some guy walked into (or was blown into) Lake Michigan late last night. Why someone would be so close to the lakeshore during a white out is beyond me.
Has Lexi been outside in this yet? It’s time to toss her into a six-foot high drift and build a snow fort with her. That’s what we aim to do. Getting her dressed for it!