Sin Zapato

All good

Greetings from the middle of the Great Pause and the edges of The Great Blizzard of 2026.

I woke up to over two feet of snow just outside my window. The forecasters got it right. We were overtaken.

It’s easy to dwell on what it means for humanity in these parts. But I’m genuinely happy for the dirt and the bugs and the growth and all the creatures that’ve been missing a proper northeastern winter, complete with at least one or two proper snowfalls.

This city rat took her time through the magical courtyard, chatting with neighbors, some in wonder and some in that perpetual state of dissatisfaction.

“Don’t bother to go to your car. Everything’s buried. You won’t even make it. The plows are taking their time.” That’s what one of them said.

“Eh. I’ll give it a shot. See what happens.” That’s what I said.

I didn’t bother to lace up my boots before my short trek to my parking spot. This is why I almost slipped out of them as I sank into some of the thigh-high spots while clearing off my car roof, windshield and hood. Not 15 minutes in, one neighbor came over with his shovel to clear out the space between the front of my car and the car in front of me. I tried to stop him but he insisted. A little while later, two more neighbors with shovels cleared a few feet on my driver’s side and behind me.

I felt pretty bad about this situation. None of them were willing to just let me borrow a shovel and do at least some of the work, and that didn’t seem right. Even the nurse, a fellow single female who lives a few doors down and knows exactly what it means to do all the things on your own, simply would not let me take a few lifts and swings.

“Not to worry,” she delivered in her perfect Irish brogue. “It’s light as a feather.”

When she was done, she only barely acknowledged my endless thanks with a quick nod and said, “You’re all good, then.”

Indeed, I am.

Take care of each other, beloved. It is all there is.

S