Austin, Diana and the Great White Death, 2016 edition.

It's been a fairly mild winter, but on Wednesday we got some snow.

It was cold, and the white stuff was nice and powdery. Usually our snow is sandwiched around layers of ice, and living in a city with no commitment of any sort to walkers, it can be dangerous to use the sidewalks. Not so with Wednesday's powder.

After reading on Facebook that kids refuse to shovel snow these days, I went outside to clear the driveway and sidewalk. After a few minutes, Austin ran over and volunteered to help. He lives with his uncle in the building on the corner. We knocked it out. He refused to be paid, but I wonder if he likes pizza?

So, yes, they DO exist.

It's snowing again today, and I'll see about going out and cleaning up, though not until Saturday morning. In the meantime, being married to a woman who was born and raised in Maine is instructive. There, this happens every day between October and May, and she loves it.

I'm taking the long view. Soon, winter will be over, and my joints will stop aching.

Suddeath: "Darkness doesn't last, unless you let it."

Following a long stint at the News and Tribune, reporter Daniel Suddeath accepted a position as editor of the Glasgow Daily Times in October of 2015.

Daniel and I seemingly are destined to disagree on many fronts, and we continue to do so. However, the commentary linked here is fine writing on the most difficult of topics, death. It is catharsis as a writer, and more importantly, as a son and a friend.

In fulfilling the task of the essayist, it also is instructive and beneficial for the reader. Read it, and I think you'll agree.  

A very good job, indeed. May your loved ones rest in peace.

Darkness doesn't last, unless you let it, by Daniel Suddeath (Glasgow Daily Times)

It's that dreary stretch of winter when most of us sane folks who can't stand the winter chill begin dreaming of the freshness of spring and warmer weather.

I was especially glad to see 2015 go, as it was one of the roughest years of my life. My father died somewhat unexpectedly in November, and his passing came just a few days after I received the news that one of my best friends from my former post in Southern Indiana had taken his own life.

Just remember, "Weather is not climate."

It'll be very again today, so here's a slice of hot and timely science from Mother Jones.

Attention GOP Presidential Candidates: Winter Does Not Disprove Global Warming

Weather is not climate.

— by Jeremy Schulman

It may seem obvious to you that the existence of extreme winter weather doesn't negate the scientific fact that humans are warming the planet. But that's probably because you aren't a climate change denier who's contemplating a run for the GOP presidential nomination ...

 ... If you're a regular Climate Desk reader, you already know why all this is wrong. You understand the difference between individual weather events and long-term climate trends. You probably even know that according to the National Climate Assessment, winter precipitation is expected to increase in the northeastern United States as a result of climate change. But if you're a Republican who wants to be president, please pay close attention to the following video:

An impolite message to winter.

Please, sir, might you consider ... shoveling ...

... your effing walk. 

What do you remember about the snow storms in 1977 and 1978?

It's finally white outside.

I certainly remember the consecutive yearly blizzards while nearing the end of my high school career, and our being out of class for around three weeks in both 1977 and 1978.

It’s hard to believe, but I was a Floyd Central varsity basketball player at the time (it’s even harder to believe that I could dunk, though these days such antics are restricted to doughnuts), and the school cancellations had almost no effect on the sports routine. Few if any practices were missed as a junior in 1977, and it seems that at least some of the games were played, although others were postponed.

My recollection of 1978 is that ultimately, the issue was less about snowfall than a coal shortage and high energy prices in the midst of Jimmy Carter’s famous “malaise.” Consequently, we continued to practice in daylight right after school at Georgetown Elementary, where there were still windows, so that the electricity could be spared at FCHS. The games we played on our home court were also right after school, so the gym wouldn’t have to be heated at night.

But … am I on the right track here? Something about these memories doesn’t jibe.

What puzzles me in retrospect is why we didn’t get back to school sooner. Apart from the not unexpected phenomenon of the basketball program’s tail wagging the dog (how times have changed at FCHS!), there are memories of getting out, driving around, socializing, grocery shopping.

More recently, there was the massive snow dump of 1994, when we were somehow able to keep the pub open after about ten inches and had a great business day, in the process unfortunately missing the single best Rich O’s photo opportunity ever when my pal Kevin and his brothers-in-law drove their snowmobiles over and parked right outside the door atop the mound created by the industrious “Mr. Plow.” But the '94 snow was gone within days.

Given the panic-stricken standards of today, the current snowfall constitutes the apocalypse. I believe there was a time not so long ago when the White Terror earned its sobriquet. On the other hand, quite a few beers have passed in the interim.

If I start telling stories about walking miles through snowdrifts, you can give “last call.”