Margin of Error
Another example of Mom doing the heavy lifting around here.
Four to eight inches,
expected. That was five inches ago, and it's still coming down. I might have ended that last sentence at "coming", as "down" conveyed no additionally important information - ever seen snow go up, for instance? Anyway, a margin of error is expected to attend a forecast, yes, but when your high estimate is one hundred percent of your low, what's the point? Especially when you consider that by this morning closer to ten inches had fallen. It was nearly up to my stomach, not quite deep enough to high center me, tho in the drifts it was. Imagine having to squat and pooh in chest-high snow. Welcome to my world uprights. I mention this just in case you hold the mistaken belief that it's 24/7
Haute Couture1 around here. It's not; believe me at times it can be quite
Hobbesian living in Cleveland.
Speaking of which, a bootleg photo from the
exhibit (Ibid.):

Imagine having to get up and put that on everyday. Makes poohing in snow drifts seem trivial by comparison. And you can imagine what the horses thought. If you look closely you'll see the horse's nose is unprotected. Presumably to avoid interfering with breathing, but you can imagine that now and then one of them got a twenty foot lance right up the ol' nostril. Ick, give me snow drifts any day.
[1] Pre-exhibit libation at the Cleveland Museum of Art.