They called it a bomb cyclone. We were as ready as we could be, food, water, generator and outside items stored away. The winds were forecast to gust to 140 kilometers an hour. At the least, we expected to lose shingles.
Forecasters use the term cyclone when warm and cold air masses collide and produce a rotating pattern with a subsequent drop in barometric pressure. When the pressure drops 24 millibars in 24 hours, it is known as a weather bomb. We kept a close eye on our barometer prior to this storm. We had never seen it this low.
It started with a heavy snowfall. Then the winds picked up. After several hours, the snow turned to ice pellets, then rain, as the temperature climbed. The winds increased, gusts hitting the house, shaking the balcony, windows and roof. It was impossible to sleep upstairs.
The family room downstairs was our best choice. My husband and I settled in for the night but even on the lower level, where we rarely hear wind or rain, we could hear the gusts slam into the house.
We keep an afghan made by my husband’s grandmother, Classie, in our family room.
The multi-coloured crocheted wool cover, sized for a double bed, is at least thirty years old. That night it was a comfort, huge and warm, a hug from Classie which helped us sleep in spite of the raging storm.
We lost shingles but not power. The next day, the temperature dropped and we’ve been in a deep freeze with high winds and temperatures equivalent to the -30s C. Winter in eastern Canada can be quite an adventure.