in which we shake our hands in the air, like we just don't care

 Another day dawns, another fucking snowstorm.


     One nice thing about being so damn busy this winter is that we're loading heavy fuel oil, which has to be heated up above 100 degrees to be pumpable, having the consistency of molasses. We usually load it at 120 degrees- you need a blowtorch to light this shit on fire- no BS, you can put a cigarette out in it and it probably won't catch.

 But all that warm oil is warming our deck above freezing, so the snow melts above our active tanks, saving us from shoveling. Today we've got a pretty sizeable load- about 60% of our capacity, with 8 of our 10 tanks holding something.

 Gotta look for that silver lining. Only got to shovel the bow, stern and deck edges.