The last two weeks have been a little bit tedious. Where the weather is concerned.
Since my agency is "virtual," we spend an inordinate amount of time on conference calls. These days, clients and colleagues from other parts of the country have an almost morbid curiosity: "So, how many inches did you get last night?" (Answer: "More than you did in Florida, all right? And stop rubbing it in!") Meanwhile, locals compare the same notes over and over. "I can't believe the kids have another snow day!" Or "Eighteen more inches? Where are they going to put it all?"
I live in a small colonial town. In our historic neighborhood, the homes are very close together, attached in many cases. Once we dig out cars and shovel paths to and from front doors, we end up with piles that can easily be 4 or 6 or 8 feet high. Truly the only thing taller around here is the pile of laundry in my teenage daughter's bathroom. Each day, she adds pajamas, a school outfit and layers of horsey gear from the stable. (Yes, the smell is particularly barnish by now.) You see, I haven't been able to actually do her laundry because the vent from the dryer in our basement is buried under all that snow. And if you run the dryer with the vent unable to ... well ... vent, that's very dangerous.
The things I've learned! Growing up in New York City, we didn't see this much snow. And even if we did, the laundry room in my high rise apartment building would still be operating, I assume. We didn't own a shovel. We didn't have to dig cars out of snowbanks, because (a) we didn't have snowbanks and (b) we didn't have a car.
It's snowing now. Lightly, but I know what's coming. We're expecting another storm over the next two days (our third major snowfall in as many weeks).
I'm so over it!
Meanwhile, my daughter, still a relatively new driver, has to take one of the cars to a babysitting gig this evening. And she'll want to drive to the stable tomorrow morning. She's also the only one among her BFFs who has had her license long enough to chauffeur other teens. So, essentially, she's always the designated driver. "Go slooooow," I beg her. "Pleeeeease be careful."
Roads are narrow and slippery. There are no sidewalks anywhere which means that there are pedestrians everywhere. The banks plowed high create blind spots at every intersection.
Did I mention that I'm over it?
Of course, all snow is not created equal. For example, we go up to Vermont a couple of times each winter and deal with much more white stuff there than we have to here. On ski weekends, giant drifts and piles aren't such a pain. They're "picturesque." Here at home? Not so much.
So, we settle in with a fire, hot tea, cold weather comfort foods like stew and chowder. Let's look on the bright side ... only 6 more weeks until Spring.
How many more storms can we possibly have in 6 weeks?
Wait. Don't answer that.
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