February 9th, 2010

tree in snow

Oh (not) pioneers!

My grandmother was born sometime around 1884. When she was a small child, her family crossed the plains in a covered wagon to settle in North Dakota. Some time about 1912 she moved to a small "company town" in the mountains of Eastern Arizona with no electricity and hardly any roads, to become a teacher and bag herself a husband. She married my grandfather, a mining engineer, and when he took a job in Mexico, he and Grandma moved their family there for a brief period of time, until la Revolución intruded and they all had to leave town in the middle of the night.

I am so not that woman. All it takes to do me in, it turns out, is anything over 30 inches of snow. We got 28 inches over the past weekend. The DC area does not cope well with snow. It started falling Friday afternoon and stopped Saturday night, and the digging out started on Sunday. The roads were truly terrible on Monday, so I worked from home, only leaving to make a run to the store in the afternoon, to give my husband a chance to finish digging out the driveway. I was just beginning to feel that life was getting back to normal.

Then word came that the next storm was going to hit today, and it could be almost as big! We have a flat roof on part of our house, and the idea of another 20 inches of snow on top of it made us very nervous. I dug my way to the backyard shed to get the ladder, and my husband started shoveling. It was worse that the driveway because a) it was 12 feet in the air, and b) we didn't have any cars parked on the roof keeping the snow from accumulating on it. He got most of the snow off, and we have our fingers crossed.

The snow is coming down now, big thick flakes, and I want to pull the covers over my head, go to sleep, and wake up in the spring. Either that or in Florida. I would take either one.

Somewhere, my grandma is laughing at me.

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