The gazillionth blizzard of the year is howling across my back yard. I literally lost count after 7 or 8 blizzards.
I had to go out first thing this morning and re-shovel the path to the back door so the hound could go out and pee. The snow plow operator has run out of space to push the snow from our driveway. I'm going to have to get him back later today, if the snow stops drifing. (No point before it stops.) Fortunately, he, like me, is a member of the volunteer fire department: if there is a call-out, he knows to come and plow my driveway before going to the fire hall.
I am sick of shovelling. I have run out of traction sand for the ice. And even when the weather warms up, it will take WEEKS for all this snow to melt.
The worst of it is that, back "home" (the West Coast island where we lived before here, and which will always be my home in my heart), the daffodils are blooming and people have already planted their veggie gardens.
Aaaaaaaaarghhhhhh!!!! I feel like I've been exiled to Siberia!
