As a native southerner, I’ve always had a curiosity about Nor’easters. First, I wondered why the “th” was always omitted for the contraction. Was that a peculiar form of the New England dialect, somehow connected to the way Bostonians leave off the “r” in so many words (think “paking the cah in Harvad Yad.)? No, apparently not. According to internet sources — which are always reliable, as we know — the contraction probably comes from maritime usage several centuries ago, but it also has found its way into the language much more frequently over the last 30 years, for whatever reasons.

Secondly, my curiosity got an in-your-face response in the last 24 hours when I experienced my first Nor’easter here in southwestern New Hampshire. We experienced over one foot of snow — light and fluffy for the most part — and moderately windy conditions, all framed in temperatures that ranged from bitterly cold to Holy-smoke-Batman-it’s-time-to-light-a-fire-in-your-pants cold. In other words, high temperatures soared up to 4, while overnight lows dropped to minus 16. That’s air temp, not wind chill.

That is, of course, part of the New England winter statistics which can and do awe and amaze residents of the Sun Belt every year. That was me until this winter, although I find myself pretty much awed and amazed even as I live in the middle of it. Most amazing, I think, is this: after this Nor’easter — which interestingly the meteorologists characterize as the FIRST Nor’easter of the year (there are more coming???) accompanied by up to two feet of snow, whirling winds and temperatures well below freezing, no one seems to be mentioning this as anywhere close to setting records.

So, here in New England with conditions far snowier and colder than in Antarctica where it took four nations to rescue people from an ice-locked ship, no one is even discussing the possibility of setting meteorological records? Better keep that fire going, Batman.

And I must also confess amazement at something else: the matter of how quickly life goes on. Several hours after the last snowflake fell, Ray, our snowplow guy, showed up to make the driveway driveable. Our new snowblower cleared a decent path to the woodshed. Even my shoveling, done under unsuccessful protest, cleared off the porch and steps. Later today we’ll drive into town and carry out our business with businesses that have been open most of the day. Tomorrow we’ll get on the interstate and go visit our kids.

And the Nor’easter? Well, that was yesterday’s news.