Because I really wanted to give it that extra effort you know? And it worked!
To all of my friends in the academic end of things, you’re welcome.
Oh, and New York City? *This* is a snow storm. Weenies.
*This* is also the precise moment when I not so secretly wish I still had a snow blower.
Meh, I’ll live. I’m not out there shovelling right this minute. Nor do I have to.
Well, *thinks* Travelling Companion does have an appointment with her bone doctor at three. Which, knowing the way he works things appointment wise, will be closer to four. Unless of course, half the patients he sees in his office don’t show up today. It ain’t easy hobbling around in deep snow if it’s your first post-op visit. This is T.C.’s second.
Oh, I should explain the “knee pads” thing. Some of you already know. Some of you are wondering what’s up with my pea brain.
See, unlike some of the school districts in the South, where the kids might have up to two weeks of time off if there’s the slightest hint of anything that remotely looks like snow, here in the Great White North, the local School Board hasn’t issued a “snow day” for quite a few years. Much to the amazement of most of the academic staff who, on at least one occasion, found themselves having issues getting home from work as a result of someone not wanting to pull the trigger at six a.m. and make that solemn declaration. There’s this thing about “funding” that comes into it, but let’s not go there.
The local folklore dictates that, in order to make sure there’s going to be a snow day, one must kneel at the side of the bed at bedtime, hands clasped diligently, and pray for snow.
Oh, and the other thing is, (and I somehow suspect that this mostly applies to the female staff members, just my impression.) it’s more effective if you are completely starkers. Yes, that’s right. In your birthday suit. Nekked.
So of course, if it does snow like mad, and the powers that be have chosen NOT to call a snow day, then you’ve done all you can do. It’s that simple.
Anyway, when we got home last night from the Super Bowl party, it was indeed snowing like mad.
Meanwhile, this morning there was a show to watch, which consisted of a neighbour across the way “clearing” his driveway.
Here’s a snippet of a brief conversation I had with T.C.:
“Wouldn’t it be better to do the bottom of the driveway and then move the vehicles down?”
Me: “Well, that’s what I would do. I’m not sure what he’s doing.”
And this was when he was “done”.
OK well. I suppose that’s good enough. Not my driveway.
I guess I’m just a bit fussier than that. I like to at least get it down to bare…something.
And just now when I looked out, I see that the asphalt part has already started to melt. It’s black. That’s the deal.
His? Meh, not so much.
Whatever. Don’t want to put the “mental” in judgemental.
I was going to take another picture from the side yard and call it, “Crap looks better covered in snow.”, but the snow was too deep over there, so I gave it a pass.
So hopefully all the kiddies (and teachers etc.) are enjoying their snow day. I’d like to think I helped.
Keep your stick on the ice.
Thanks for stopping by.