The Worst Blizzard in New Jersey's History (and by "worst", I mean most pathetic).

     Yesterday, in the mid-afternoon, I left from work early and carefully drove over to the local major hardware store in search of the one most necessary item for Storm Juno survival: the snow shovel. Upon making it into the store through the quickly falling snow and semi-strong wind (and passing by the signs warning the rationing of certain supplies), I timidly walked to the customer service counter to make my request. I was kindly informed that the store was completely sold out of snow shovels, so being the mature and highly functioning twenty-five year old that I am, I made it back inside my vehicle, called a family member and wept about my failure to own this one tool I apparently so desperately needed. Family members quickly promised to come to my aide post-storm and assist in the inevitable hours long digging out of my car from the side of the street- that is, if we would even be able to locate my car under the mountains  and mountains of snowfall headed our way.
     With the comforting promises of help from family, I started to settle in and relax for the evening. I figured Hulu, Netflix and some hot soup would make the perfect evening as I waited for the worst of the storm to arrive. I then made the awful mistake of checking my Twitter feed, only to discover that the governor (with whom I normally am rather contented) was rapidly tweeting out apocalyptic type precautions such as "get out your battery-powered radio"...as if the New Jerseyians who are on Twitter are old enough to still be buying those...Anyway, I went to bed last night feeling a bit anxious, but still retaining my excitement for the tucked-in snow day approaching.
     After spending most of the morning reading, eating, and planning my day, I decided to gear up and brave the low temps for a walk to survey the damage this storm of epic proportions had no doubt brought upon my lovely town snuggled in the suburbs of Manhattan. Below are the photographs I was able to capture....

  My car, thankfully, seems to have survived the worst of it...

                    Not today, Mr.Snowman...not today.

    The semi snow-covered roofs threatened cave-in...

Massive amounts of salt roughly in the shape of Australia were needed to remove the dangerous ice build-up on sidewalks...

Only the most modern methods of sidewalk safety were employed for this historic catastrophy...

                     Business owners slaved for hours to free their shops...

                   
              The most heartbreaking damage was to local nature...

            

                     Hang in there, buddy...

                     Building fire escapes faced irreversible destruction...

       

Westfield residents will spend months recovering from the damage caused by the overnight gusting wind...

            Some feared international intervention would be our only hope for true recovery...

  
Will this town ever feel a sense of normalcy again?

              All we can do is hope...and cook...