Here in the heartland, we’ve been in the grips of a drought for months. Mother Nature, she of the bizarre sense of humor, finally noticed and, like all good mothers, tried to set things right by gracing us with back-to-back blizzards.
Last Wednesday, we got a foot of snow in four hours, a depth that exceeded the length of our dogs’ legs by at least four inches. You get the picture. I shoveled a path from the deck off our kitchen, down the stairs to the patio for the dogs. Then things got interesting. I kept going, trenching out a maze that gave the dogs room to roam and take care of business. They enjoyed themselves, eventually trying their luck on the frozen tundra, paws breaking through the crust, leaving them to scramble like drunken sailors on shore leave.
I managed to get my wife’s car stuck at the end of the driveway where it sat for a day while we waited for the snow removal crew to arrive. By Friday, they had yet to make it. That would have been okay except that an implanted tooth in the back of my mouth chose that morning to fall out. Happily, our next door neighbor saddled up his John Deere tractor with blade and snow blower and helped dig us out so I could have the pleasure of spending 5 ½ hours in the dentist chair getting put back together again.
None of this would have been nearly as much fun if I hadn’t also been battling the cold/flu from hell, a bug that is truly a bear. Yes, when it snows, it pours. I kept telling myself that this would pass, albeit like a kidney stone.
So imagine our joy when we got another eight-plus inches of snow last night, bending and bowing tree limbs, leaving them sagging and weaving in the wind. They’d groan if they could but since they can’t, I did it for them as, once again, I excavated escape routes for my dogs.
All things considered, it’s not that bad. The view is pretty spectacular.