The Aftermath.

I was supposed to fly to Atlanta today. But then my flight was canceled last night due to the storm in New York. I re-booked for a later flight, but it was canceled too because of the blizzard that hit us today. After I re-booked for the third time we headed to the airport with the hopes that this flight might take off. It was going to be a milk run flight, but I was willing to try anything. Needless to say, the snow was still coming hard and my flight was again canceled. By the time we got back from the airport, where we were the only people, there was a foot of the snow on the ground. Not bad for six hours of Mother Nature's work.

As we pulled up to our driveway I immediately declared that I wanted out of the truck. Immediately. There was no way I was having any part of crashing into the snowbank that had accumulated. 

(Note: Please ignore the ugly two-toned house next door. They're weird.)

Any other person in any other car would park on the street and go find their shovel. 

But not my Land-Rover-Driving-Canadian. 

Nope. No way. No how.

"So," he said, "You still hate my truck? Your car couldn't do this."

"Yes, honey," I replied, with a long eye roll, "There are occasions that I'm grateful for your truck."

In all fairness it was an impressive snowbank, just as high as the hood. And he did make it through, in two wheel drive, he'll have you know. And it saved me from shoveling for the time being. So, I am thankful for his truck today.

I wasn't, however, completely spared from shoveling. It was after the sun went down that the snow finally slowed down enough for us to start clearing the driveway. The Canadian and I headed out; him to the snow blower, and I to the stairs with the shovel. I was finishing up the stairs and he was half way done with the driveway when the unthinkable happened -- the snowblower died. As far as I'm concerned, this is a disaster of catastrophic proportions - not because of the manual labor shoveling involves, but because there is simply no where to put the snow. We are flat out of room.

This neighbor has to blast his snow twenty feet up just to get it to spread evenly over the banks.

Our other neighbor was smart enough to hire a plow/tractor. I'm telling you, its hard to work to throw snow up to your window with a shovel. I know. I survived an hour of shoveling before I quit tonight. I couldn't help it. It was causing me to have bad thoughts about my house, this country and my life. I decided to save my sanity and go find a shower and a glass of wine.

It seemed like the best decision for everyone's sake.

You are all welcome, by the way.