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prusikFor the last few years, my choir's annual Christmas concerts (one on Saturday night, and one on Sunday afternoon) have coincided with a snowpocalyse. Last year was the most egregious yet.
That Saturday night concert actually went really well. You could feel that camaraderie of shared travel woes. Everyone who made it to the concert really wanted to be there. Due to the weather, the first time we rehearsed with our soprano soloist was just before the concert. It all worked out anyway. It's a mystery.
The Sunday afternoon concert went as well as possible under the circumstance. A big chunk of the choir simply could not make it there. The same for the audience. (This is unfortunate if for no other reason than that this is the concert that actually makes money and helps fund the rest of our season.) I like to think that everyone who braved the weather got at least their money's worth anyway.
The trip home was much more of an adventure. On the way to the concert, I'd noticed that the wires powering the Green Line were sparking as the trains passed by. That was not a good sign. Of course, on the way home, the train I was on couldn't move with passengers in it. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a big deal. Passengers were evacuated. Feet got soaked. The wind blew. Streets were trudged, then trudged back. (We miscalculated.) Some hours later, I did eventually get home whereupon I dug my driveway out of the snowpocalyse. (It was either that or let the snow freeze into a block of ice overnight. I think not.)
All of that is just a long prelude to how happy I was on Monday, when the weekend weather forecast was for clear skies. And how dismayed I am to realize that we're apparently in for a snowpocalypse this weekend. Maybe it'll be like the snowpocalypse we were supposed to get a couple of weeks ago. (i.e., an inch of snow that disappeared of its own accord by the next day.) *sigh*
That Saturday night concert actually went really well. You could feel that camaraderie of shared travel woes. Everyone who made it to the concert really wanted to be there. Due to the weather, the first time we rehearsed with our soprano soloist was just before the concert. It all worked out anyway. It's a mystery.
The Sunday afternoon concert went as well as possible under the circumstance. A big chunk of the choir simply could not make it there. The same for the audience. (This is unfortunate if for no other reason than that this is the concert that actually makes money and helps fund the rest of our season.) I like to think that everyone who braved the weather got at least their money's worth anyway.
The trip home was much more of an adventure. On the way to the concert, I'd noticed that the wires powering the Green Line were sparking as the trains passed by. That was not a good sign. Of course, on the way home, the train I was on couldn't move with passengers in it. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a big deal. Passengers were evacuated. Feet got soaked. The wind blew. Streets were trudged, then trudged back. (We miscalculated.) Some hours later, I did eventually get home whereupon I dug my driveway out of the snowpocalyse. (It was either that or let the snow freeze into a block of ice overnight. I think not.)
All of that is just a long prelude to how happy I was on Monday, when the weekend weather forecast was for clear skies. And how dismayed I am to realize that we're apparently in for a snowpocalypse this weekend. Maybe it'll be like the snowpocalypse we were supposed to get a couple of weeks ago. (i.e., an inch of snow that disappeared of its own accord by the next day.) *sigh*
