More Than a Few Inches of Snow

Another item checked off my "Living in the snow bucket list".

My first foot or more of snow in one night.

This morning we woke up to this.

Guess I'm not taking the dogs out for a walk that way.  Maybe out the garage?

Or maybe not.  That snow is taller than my dogs.

My upstairs window had accumulated a little snow too.

Somewhere under there is our front steps and walkway.

After we dug out the driveway, this is the pile we had.

And there's our front porch again.

View from the porch after we unburied it.

Winter Wonderland

This week, one of Mama Kat's writing prompts was a photo journal entry
about what winter looks like in my town.

This is my first REAL winter.  The first one where I've experienced cold
and the first where I've experienced snow.

Winter in Southern California is palm trees and rain.
Maybe some ice on your windshield here and there.
If you want to take the kids sledding, you load them up in the car
and drive at least an hour to the nearest ski resort.

Winter in Arizona is like summer in Arizona, except not 120 degrees.
It's sunshine and flip flops.  It's 80 degree days.
If you want to take the kids sledding, you load them up in the car
and drive three hours to the nearest place with enough elevation to get snow.

To say that winter in Michigan is different is like saying that
Jerry Falwell and Boy George are different.

It's a WHOLE new world over here.

It's icicles.

It's "Hey, that's the one bush that's still green, buried under a foot of snow."

Because seriously, all the other bushes look like this.

I know this isn't exactly what winter looks like in my TOWN,
but I'm still awed by the simple things right in front of me.

And since I'm terrified of driving in the snow, I haven't been getting out a whole lot.

Shoveling Snow is Good For the Soul Amongst Other Things

I ALWAYS said that snow was nice to visit, but I wouldn't want to live in it,
I didn't want to have to drive in it, or have to shovel it out of my driveway.

Ahem.

Famous Last Words.

Here I am, living what should be my own personal nightmare, and you know what?  I kinda like it.  My husband wants to buy a $500 snow thrower, and I'm thinking "We don't need to waste our money on that, just give me my shovel and go away".  I know it sounds totally bizarre, but I came to this realization while my mom was here visiting.  (Yeah, that's a whole other story).

I thought it would be nice to have her come and visit.  To see where we live.  To see that we can still be family even though I moved 2000 miles away.  That I hadn't abandoned her.  Seven days might have been a little ambitious considering our not too distant blow up.  We managed not to fight, but we also avoided speaking about anything of substance.
There was A LOT of tongue biting.

When it snowed, I had to go outside and shovel, and for the first time in DAYS, I had peace.  It was just me and my shovel, methodically removing the snow from the walks and the driveway.  I found myself lapsing into this meditative state where my mind was void of worry, I was just moving, just shoveling, without thinking.  It was the quietest my mind has been in ages.

Maybe this too will get old.  Maybe the newness will wear off and it will just become work like so many other household chores, but for now, I'm enjoying my private time with my snow shovel.

I also think that my rear might be residing a little higher than it was before all this physical labor.  Bonus!!

My First Snow

We finally got snow here a few days ago.
I was too busy selling out for fornicating bunny mugs posting giveaways to blog about it.

My first snow was beautiful.

At first.

Then I had to drive in it.

Tiffany had a violin lesson.  A lesson that normally is about 30 min from the house.  Hubby warned me to leave early, give myself plenty of time, leave plenty of room between me and the car in front of me, and not to wait until the last minute to brake.

I left to take her a full hour before we needed to be there.  The roads had been plowed or salted or something because the roads were just wet.  The drive was not as treacherous as the hubby had made it out to be. It took 45 minutes.  I drove slow.  I left room.  I braked slowly and carefully.  We got there in one piece, with 15 minutes to spare.

Forty five minutes later when we left it was a WHOLE different story.  All those roads that had been merely wet had turned to ice, and apparently everyone is leaving work (near violin lessons) and heading home (to my neighborhood) around 5 pm.  Go figure.

The TWO hour drive home was the scariest two hours I have ever spent in my whole life.
It was two hours spent clutching my steering wheel, pointing my car in the general direction I wanted to go, and praying.

There was sliding.
There was not going anywhere even though the gas pedal was being pushed.
There was an annoying pulsation that is the traction control.
It didn't seem to help much other than to remind me that
MY TIRES WERE NOT IN CONTACT WITH THE ROAD,
causing me to panic even more.

I really wished I had painted "I'm new here and have never driven in the snow before" on the back window of my car.  People were entirely too close to me for their own good.

When I finally made it home, I told my husband that for the rest of the winter I'm only going out right after the roads have been cleared, quickly running my errands, and then I'm coming straight home.  If I can't get it done in a 2 hour window, it's not getting done until spring.