As I write this, Iowans are preparing (or not) for the first big snowstorm of the season - with high winds and large, driveway-blocking drifts. A blizzard.

Expected to dump about eight inches of new snow, this blizzard will be puny compared to the storm of Feb. 17, 1912, that buried the state in almost 31 inches of the white stuff, accumulating as much snow in one day as Iowa generally gets in one year.

But even the 1912 blizzard couldn't measure up to the disaster of March 14, 1888, that hit New England and left New York, New Jersey and Connecticut entombed in more than 50 inches of snow. Winds of up to 80 miles an hour left record drifts as high as 52 feet deep in Gravesend, N.Y., and completely covered three-story houses.

Although New York's blizzard was bigger than Iowa's best blizzard, if it weren't for Iowa, New Yorkers would have had to call their blizzard something else. After all, we invented the word.

Oh sure, "blizzard" had been around since the mid-1700s. Originally a British nonsense word, blizzard came to refer to a shot of alcohol, a shot to the jaw from a fist, or a rifle shot. In his autobiography, Davy Crockett wrote:

"I started down the edge of the river low grounds, out the pursuit of my elks, and hadn't gone hardly any distance at all before I saw two more bucks, very large fellows, too. I took a blizzard at one of them, and up he tumbled."

But the first time the word "blizzard" appeared in print, referring to a violent snow storm, was in 1870 in Estherville, Iowa, in the local newspaper, the Northern Vindicator. (Don't you just love that name?)

This brings to mind another Iowa first. Some of you may not know this, but the first chocolate-covered ice cream bar, eventually bearing the name "Eskimo Pie," was invented in Iowa. Christian K. Nelson was born in Gundestrup, Denmark, but in 1903, his family moved to Onawa, Iowa. Nelson hit upon the idea of dipping ice cream bars in chocolate, but the product didn't really take off until 1920 when he teamed up with chocolate maker Russell Stover.

Together, they created the Eskimo Pie and sold out their first batch of 250,000 in one day. Which was a kind of blizzard itself.

I know I shouldn't wish for a real old-fashioned blizzard. They're hazardous and inconvenient. But wouldn't it be wonderful to see the whole town covered in white? Quiet streets - soft, thick, impassible. All your busy plans blown away like a wisp of warm breath in the cold wind. Nothing left to do but marvel at such divine authority.