10 a.m. today: I've just been advised by our local news that if we have a problem, don't call the police, because they can't help. We're in Blizzard conditions. Nevermind that the "new guy" on the scene and out in the snow was being blown away and the visibility is so low that you can't even see him...just his red jacket bobbing in the snow and wind....Ricardo is stuck at work because he went in the 12" of snow that had already fallen last night and can't get the car out of the parking lot from the 6" more that has fallen in the last 2 hours.
The first picture is our hot tub. So, you can see, I can't find solace there...
The second picture is from the garage....that's my driveway...I'll do my part for the community and not go out in that.
And the third picture....you know how at murder scenes, there's blood spatter? Well, this is snow spatter. The sky has opened up and spit on my house.
We're in our jammies all day. I suppose I could use this opportunity to do laundry and clean the house.....or, maybe slurp hot tea and lay very still under the heating blanket. It's a win-win situation, really.
Noon - Ricardo comes through the door, and I say, "You made it back! Yay!" But he's not sharing in my excitement. That's when I notice his face is red, he's breathing heavy and he's got snow covering his shoes and his jeans up to his knees. The guy is 6'8". So this can't be good. Kiddingly, I say, "Good Lord, did you walk home?" And he replies, "Yep from the subdivision entrance." Then he goes and gets a blanket for his ears. He looks like he's in some kind of hypothermic shock. Still, I'm glad he's home. Now he just looks a little ticked off and he says, "We got an all-office email today at 8:10a.m. that we were closed." That's nice that they waited for them all to get there and get trapped before they were told to not bother. My man escaped though. Good Job!
2p.m. Mother Nature's rage rant is over and the blizzard stops. Ricardo looks out to see our neighbor snow blowing his driveway with great tribulation. It turns out that the snow is so high, the blower part's is under the snow. This can't be good.
3p.m. Since I've been in the house with the kids for 24 straight hours, Candyland is now strewn over all three levels of the house, and the dog is getting stir crazy, Ricardo and I are now arguing over who gets to go shovel snow. Both of us wanted to shovel. We instruct the kids to pick up the Candyland game and when they do, they too can have the PRIVILEGE of shoveling snow, and maybe playing in it. And then we layer up and go out into the great white yonder. Our driveway is one gigantic snow drift. We start digging, and our very generous neighbor snow blows his way to us and lets us use his snow blower. The snow is so deep, one of us (me) has to shovel a layer before the snow blower can go through for the rest.
3:45p.m. We finish our driveway and the kids have finally put up that damned Candyland game and come out and play. We even let Farley The Wonder Dog out in the front. The wonderdog loved it and didn't even attempt to bark or charge any fellow snow blowers nor shovellers. All is right with the world.
4p.m. I make hot cocoa for everyone and sit down to watch Oprah just in time to see that there's no hope for snow plows to come rescue us. School has been closed for tomorrow. "Ricardo, I'm going to need you to shovel a path to the hot tub." I check the cabinet and confirm, we indeed are stocked up on rum and dietcoke. Everything is going to be okay.
That's how I roll.
Well, that groundhog couldn't be any more of a liar than these blasted robins we have down here; but then again, this IS the south, and the ones that don't winter down here just go a little further south. Even the hummingbirds are confused.
I'm just glad you got your senses back and found your way to the hot tub. For a moment there you had me worried.