I have officially had enough of winter. Which makes sense because it’s spring — except someone forgot to tell our weather about that fact. It started snowing over April Fool’s Day and it did not stop until we accumulated something like 50 centimeters, on top of what was already there.
That is the TOP of my couch. And the window starts at least a foot and a half off the ground. We cannot see anything out the front window now except for snow and a sliver of sky.
Matt spent the evening of the storm desperately trying to get home. His work is normally a five minute drive away from home, if that, but we are the people who failed to put winter tires on our new car, and one can’t exactly expect the town to mobilize all of their plows while there’s still 50 centimeters of snow falling (and we don’t live on a priority route). He drove around for over an hour trying every street in town in a zig-zag manner, hoping to find a path to our house.
Then he texted me a picture of the car stuck in an intersection. Did I mention the baby was having a total meltdown that day? The no-naps-during-the-day thing culiminated in red-faced rage at 6 p.m. so I decided to hurry her through a sped-up, early bedtime routine. So I glanced at the photo, winced, and carried on trying to convince my screaming baby that bath time was okay. That’s when Matt showed up.
“I ditched the car in the intersection [WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!] gotta get shovels [WAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!] cops are there. THIS IS AWFUL.”
Apparently by the time he got back our friend Bob had mercifully dug out the car and the cops went on their way. The two of them shoveled out his driveway so our car would have a home for the evening (because of course we bought a house with an uphill driveway the year winter lasts FOREVER).
Miraculously, UPS managed to deliver the stroller we were expecting on time, despite the fact that the Trans-Canada Highway was closed from two hours out of town all the way to Manitoba. It’s a lovely stroller, three-wheeled, shiny… and its currently glaring at me, taunting me from the corner, because I probably won’t get to use it ’till June at this rate.
So, winter, snow, ice — I’ve had enough. You took out my shed (fully collapsed). You twisted my knee this week. I worry about you taking down my roof, or my garage. You are trapping me in the house. Come on and melt already?!