We had a lovely old-fashioned snowstorm. The Shire is swathed in big ol' drifts of white, which I got up at 3 a.m. to watch. But it was nowhere near the red alert they'd hyped it up to be.
I'd gone out to try to make a snowman or 2 to surprise my nabes but that wind was fierce and the snow was almost sandy it was so powdery. I gave up quickly- just the fallen snow was over my Beanboot tops. Then I went back to bed when the sun came up and burst through the blowing sheets of snow, after 7 a.m. I could get out the back door at 3 a.m., but not at 7 a.m. when I tried again. This year's snow clearers are really clueless around here. The path they finally made out back (I can't use the front until my walker's brake is fixed and there's still nobody to fix it) was meant for small children in single file- a shovel wide. The kind of shoveling job that'd get me grounded when I was a kid. I'd knocked a bunch back down into the path just trying to get outside. To my amazement and happiness, I didn't have to bitch; neighbors were already out at 1 p.m. with their walkers and canes, yelling and gesticulating at the nimrods who were plainly working against, not with, each other. But the drifts! They're now up over my back windows. Good insulation; my house is quite snug.
Anyway, it's only a foot or so. We have it well sorted out. All of our neighboring states declared an emergency. We quietly went about business. True, the PO didn't open or deliver (and I've got a bone to pick with them about a delivery they claim they made but didn't) but all the stores downtown just shoveled and opened like always.
So yes, snow came. There are 8 ft piles and 5 ft drifts all around, and the wind is up, but it's Winter in Vermont. It's good to feel normal.
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