Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
So, as you might have surmised from my shameful lack of posting, things have been busy. Very, very busy. And then? Then it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And snowed some more.In fact, it is still snowing.
To be fair, we were expecting the storm. We were expecting 2 inches on Friday (we got 8 inches), another 6 inches on Saturday (we got 8 inches), and 2-4 on Sunday (it might have measured 2-3 inches). Friday night was an absolute nightmare. It was a blizzard! Snow was blowing so much that at times we couldn't see the house across the street. And, I mean literally across the street. And, it is a big grey house. So, there you go.
Saturday morning, all of the men in the neighborhood were in high cotton. You should have seen them. They all went happily to work with their plows and snowblowers and then were helping each other out. This same boys-and-their-power-toys scene played out again on Sunday morning when the dig out began anew. Too funny. My own husband was careful to tamp down his sheer glee whenever he came to the door, but I could see plainly he was having a good time. For one, he was upset that the neighbor had blown off part of our sidewalk, and then when he finished our driveway, he scurried across the street to help a buddy.
The roads were not bad enough on Saturday morning to keep me from my pedicure appointment, however. I lingered in the pedicure throne for some time and then came home and did some grocery shopping. Strangely, it seemed to be predominantly men in the grocery store. I don't have a problem with this, but it is not the norm. Usually you see lots of women grocery shopping on Saturday. Instead, it was a bunch of canyon-man types with lists, asking each other where to find stuff. And they were all clueless. I wonder if this male-specific blizzard-glee didn't mean that men all over the area volunteered to do the shopping so honey could stay home. It is just a theory. I have no proof whatsoever. But, I think it worth investigating. You'll be proud to know that I directed my fair share of these johnny-come-lately hunter/gatherers to the items they sought. I'm approachable, you see. It is the curls. People don't see my menacing scowl because of the curls.
For the record, I'm going to remember them the next time I have a flat tire when I'm wearing a skirt. $20 says they all fly right past me without stopping.
