Yesterday, at nearly the height of the storm in the early morning, I went outside to feed and water our chickens. I had heard of farmers of old having to tie a string between the house and barn (when they weren’t attached) so they wouldn’t get lost in blizzards, and I could easily believe it as I blasted in the face with snow as the wind howled. Even in the daylight I could barely see the house. Then I crawled over the chest high plow back onto Naskeag Road here in Brooklin to look around. Out of habit I looked in our newspaper box. I fully expected to see it empty. Instead I was shocked to a wisp of blue plastic fluttering in the gale. I had to climb half way up the plow back to reach in the box and pull out a fat weekend Bangor Daily News! Our paper carrier should have stayed home! But, no, instead she was driving many miles in white out conditions in the middle of the night, dodging snow plows and falling trees, getting close to the paper boxes to get the paper in them. Or maybe she has great aim (at least in our case). I only hope she had strong coffee. Many thanks to her and other hardworking folks in the memorable tempest.
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