I live in an urban setting but in a small town. I love everything about my town— but no town is ever fully prepared for a three-day snowstorm.
I have a garage that fronts a quaint alley, as many people in our borough do. In a big snowstorm I typically move my car to the street. Because the street very quickly looks like this after a storm:
But I didn’t. Not this time. Even with a foot or a foot and a half of snow I can shovel my end of the alley if need be.
Not this time. We got 2.5 feet of snow and this is what my garage is facing:
And that is the street there.
So much snow fell that they can’t get the plows down the narrow alleys. Despite five plows and the whole crew, they need to go in with smaller equipment and move the snow with dump trucks.
It’s now 3:30 and we still haven’t seen any of our snow go, but we were fortunate to have our favorite little dog stop by and visit. Her mom started a new job just a few hours a day where she is learning great secrets— like how to make chocolate bombs.
I had to call out from work at my warehouse— the Bizzy Hizzy— so this week may end up an unpaid and stoic vacation with a shovel in hand.
Teenager #1 made the best of conditions and took the cats out to the snow.
Her quote was, “Mom, this is why I need a dog.”
And in exciting news, I got to talk shop with a newspaper editor today. Not going to say anything more other than it was a good conversation and I hope I have the chance to continue the talk.
And finally, if you need some cockatoo amusement: