White outside

Just when I thought winter was on its last legs toward a slow crawl toward spring - after all, February is only 28 days - we were hit with what is, for me, the storm of my life so far. I believe the ground is covered with at least 18 inches of pure white snow. Our driveway is lost, as is the sidewalk leading to the front door.

I hope that Mr. Bentley, who is a consistent defendant but not a "frequent flier," will show up today to help Max shovel. I have no idea where we will put the snow, but the most difficult and most important place to clear is where the driveway meets the street. The snowplow does its job, but leaves a HUGE pile of snow that no car in this garage can get over. As long as that ridge is there, no one in this house is going anywhere. Period.

This will be my third consecutive day of slugdom. Yesterday, I made cookies and took a short nap and watched the snow pouring down and sat in a leather chair by the fire and watched the fire burn, watched Law and Order - you get the idea. Today will have to be a little more productive so that I can come back to life as life comes back to me. I plan to clean the house a little, make sure that I have all my papers graded, and do some planning for Max's 60th birthday, which arrives one week before Emily's graduation.

I wonder if I will be tired of the solitude and of these four walls by the end of today. Probably not. They are more attractive than the alternative, which is to be out. Yesterday, as I was trying to go to the store early in the morning, I became stuck in the snow on the highway twice. I was pretty terrified, as only a couple of people stopped to help and the tail end of the car kept sweeping over into the next lane, where 18-wheelers were barreling toward me. They, of course, cannot stop quick in an emergency, and I hoped to stay out of their way. It was not such a good thing.

Off to downstairs to build yet another fire with wonderful firewood, and to begin to enjoy another day of doing nothing.