If we're quiet, will you promise not to call FEMA?

The quiet before the storm.

We're expecting a foot of snow, drifted by high winds. The southeast part of the state, including the Cape, will get more of both, enough for the storm to be classified as a blizzard. We have a couple of events planned for today and expect that they'll be called off. It will be a good day to read through the stack of magazine that's in my in-basket. The bottom layer of the magazines is turning to coal.

In the meantime, the local TV stations are in full disaster mode. It's snowing. In February. In New England

Nor'easter On Its Way; Extreme Team Has You Covered

I've yet to find a web site that provides school closings and related information for the Worcester area. One radio station promises information about cancellations, but a click of the link results in a "Sorry, the feed you are looking for does not exist." Some of the Boston news outlets manage to include news from the provinces, but that material rarely makes it onto the web. I guess it's good that some traditions don't change. Our grandkids get to listen to the same lame AM radio stations as we did, where announcers read from a long list at five and thirty-five minutes past the hour.

We visited Adam, Jennie, and Lily at their new home yesterday. It's a really nice place, a log cabin on eight mostly-wooded acres, three-quarters of a mile from the center of a very small town. It has a great view of the low hills stretching off to the east. As you drive up the winding highway that leads to the town, the temperature drops by three to five degrees. Cell phone signals (Verizon's, anyway) get tired at the town line and have to sit by the side of the road for a rest.

They had recently gone with Jennie's mother to see Cirque Du Soleil, an event for the February birthday celebrants. Lily brought her small CD player from her room and played a CDS disc, eerie and compelling music.

The purpose of the trip, in addition to visiting, was to bring a grandfather's clock that, by no coincidence, was made by my grandfather. A bit more than 30 years ago, my grandfather, living alone for a year after the death of my grandmother, was building the clock in the cellar of his house. His house was next door to my father's. One day, my grandfather showed my father the progress that he'd made on the clock. "I guess you'll have to finish this," my grandfather said. A few days later, maybe a bit more, my grandfather died.

My father finished it and, one Christmas, brought it to our house. It's been in our dining room, a bit finicky on these old uneven and sometimes unsteady floors. We've all had a hand in getting the clock going and keeping it going, with Adam having the best touch. My father was pleased when we told him that we were bringing the clock to their new home.

On the way back, we made a few shopping stops. There are many February birthdays and anniversaries in our extended family, but only one for each person. When a gift is called for, getting the right gift is important. We tried not too look too clueless as we bought a lacrosse stick and accessories.

We also stopped at Dave's and picked up some special food for Marley. (His 10th birthday is later this month.) This morning he had duck and sweet potato. In Japan, he might be having whale meat.

Belated Happy Anniversary to Mike and Lynn.

We still remember you, Don.