After a warmer than normal December, we got hit with a January Blizzard. I should have known it was going to happen back in December when Rob told me he was going to be out of town at the end of January. When I heard the forecast, my first thought was "Of course!"
We ended up with at least 26 inches of snow. I was really sick at the beginning of it and had been out (being sick seems to be my theme this school year). The blizzard started Friday evening and ended Sunday night. Luckily, Rob's trip was delayed until Monday morning, so he was able to shovel the bulk of the driveway. I still spent the week dealing with the end of the drive, the cars, and the mailbox. It sounds like nothing, but remember: 26 inches! I had Lily jump on the piles of shoveled snow to keep them from growing higher than my head.
We managed just fine. I really think that my family is directly descended from sloths. We are at our best when we get to hang out, snack, read, and watch TV/movies. There were a few moments of cabin fever, but really we handled 8 days at home pretty well.
Today was Day 8 and the day Rob was due to come home. I was feeling better and decided to present myself as a wife and mother who had her shit together and had not just spent the past 7 days in the same pair of pjs, changing only to shovel snow. I got dressed in jeans and a cute sweater (with my comfy new loafers), ignored my very sore muscles, fluffed my hair and put on some lipstick (I'm on a red lipstick kick, it makes me happy!). I went to Target and Giant, picking up salt for future freezes, needed medicines, and groceries. I came home made baked potatoes (with choice of tasty, healthy toppings) and sat down with the girls to play Clue. Rob was going to come home to a loving normal family. So loving and normal, he would most likely think he'd walked into the wrong house.
I got up to put turkey bacon in the oven (healthy toppings, remember?), and Lily took Buffy outside. Buffy had already been restless, climbing all over our game and pretty much being her PITA self. I went out to check on them and some how the leash slipped out of Lily's hand. Off went Buffy with me in hot pursuit, until my loafers and I sunk into the snow. Buffy has learned almost everything except coming when called. She is the only dog to get so lost, she can't make it back home without the kindness of strangers. Buffy is the Blanche Dubois of dogs, which makes me Stella. I threw on rain boots and went tearing into the woods yelling "Buffy" while waving a bag of dog treats. Our neighbor tried to catch her, and I stopped to offer my apology of "I haven't been able to train her to come, we need a fence, this doesn't happen very often..." before plunging into a creek with the bag of dog treats clenched in my teeth.
By the time I scrambled up the snowy bank, my body decided to remind me that it was SORE from shoveling. I hoped that the neighbor and his kids had not heard my swearing and stumbled on through the woods. I stopped to ask a couple of dogs if they'd seen her and complimented their fence. I briefly considered laying down in the snow to rest my legs, but I've watched enough disaster movies to know that was not advisable. I trudged on through the neighborhood until a UPSC driver stopped. She asked if I was looking for a dog and told me two girls found her. Then she turned around drove back up the street to tell them where I was. Remember: kindness of strangers. I limped up the street, wet, sweaty, panting, and pretty much looking like a crazy woman carrying Bacon Treats, when I saw Buffy prancing along with two adorably coiffed teenage girls, all decked out in cute winter accessories. I swallowed every nasty word I wanted to say to my traitorous dog and thanked the girls. "Don't worry, it happens." they said with the worldly tone only teen girls can project. I limped home muttering to my furry little turncoat. I let her cuddle with me the entire time we were snowed in. What the hell?!
The girls were happy to see us. I had charged out without my phone, and they had no way to get a hold of me. They had already updated Rob via text so any allusion of having my shit together was gone, so I did the only reasonable thing I could: changed into fleece jammies and chowed down on a potato. By the time Rob got home I was too sore and tired to do more than say hello and head up to bed. Can we have a redo tomorrow?