…I’m hyperventilating. It’s the third day without a snow plow in sight.
In the long dark days after Super Sandy, we counted the days then too. Until we got our power back. Or could find an open gas station.
Guess what! This time, we have full tanks! And we didn’t lose power!
But we’ve lost our freedom –the reason we still have full tanks. Because we can’t drive anywhere. Not even the supermarket.
We could starve.
I conjure an image of my techie-Apple-fanatical husband skinning a squirrel to roast. Well, maybe. He doesn’t like his children to go hungry, even to miss a cookie snack. But he would no doubt have to Google skinning squirrels first…. the image fades.
Never mind squirrels. The snow’s so deep, they’re trying to dig themselves out too. We might be reduced to cardinals.
Nibbling on roasted chickadees.
I’m disoriented. I run from window to window.
“Mom? What ya doing?” One son asks.
“Trying to find the front yard.” When you no longer have a road, front yards look like back yards.
“It’s that way, Mom,” Little Bro points. Then he looks confused. “Maybe it’s that way.”
We find a compass. The driveway I remember would be to the west…?
Ok, so I’m exaggerating. But my husband is literally losing it; he doesn’t like to miss work. Rather, his boss doesn’t like him to miss work. He’s fully dressed for work, his building ID lanyard around his neck. “Maybe it’s melted enough…” he contemplates, looking out at what is now rain. At the road. Which is still missing. He could be looking out at the back yard thinking it’s the front yard….
Either way. Sure. Maybe the snow in the road has melted to 27” from 28.” I don’t suggest he go measure because he might very well do so and try to drive away.
Bear with me. This could be a long tale. Because so much happens when nothing is happening at all. When things get old; after the third day of no power with Super Sandy, playing board games by candlelight got old. So now on this new third day has building igloos. Snowmen. Trying to sled down (what you think is) the road, only to sink:
And this is old:
Wet snowy snow-boots abandoned in the hall, along with stripped-down snow pants, melting mittens…. All which have to be put in the dryer just to be taken out again for the next sodden snowy escapade.
The first time out in the then new snow, our boys couldn’t wait! They bundled up in snow clothes and built their first igloo!
Now to pry their little fingers off computer mouses, to draw them out of Minecraft where they build vast under-ground block worlds (accessorized with even libraries), I have to shove them out the door.
They whine. “It’s cold. We already built an igloo.”
Even the dog is sick of the snow. He’d rather stay in and chew on the snowy boots:
To get our boys off their favorite computer game, Minecraft, where they’ve been busy killing 1300 monsters, I resorted to all those Christmas presents barely unboxed. Science test tubes:
A microscope under which they examined a piece of Mommy’s hair:
Until it was only dominoes that could keep them from being magnetically drawn back to the computer screens. We built a man with a bird on his head:
Don’t see it? Well, then you haven’t been snowed in long enough. Long enough to doze off on the dog:
Or if you’re the dog, to shred tissues:
So today it’s raining. I can no longer force the boys to go out and snow frolic; so I give up.
My husband is fed up and contemplating chewing on his toes.
But the boys are thrilled because they get free rein on Minecraft. They call to each other from their separate hand-me-down old laptops from separate rooms. Big Bro found a Minecraft “swiftness” potion that makes him faster but not fast enough to escape some monster or zombie: “I’m going to die. I’m dead.”
“You are? Daaang it,” calls out Little Bro who today is a blacksmith making armor. “Oh wait I’m barely alive…. I’m going to die soon. Oops I died!”
“Dude, give me some food I’m going to die.”
“I only have bread.”
Starving? Mommy’s ears perk up from blogging her Tues Tales. “You hungry?” Is it snack time already?
“No I’m just starving on Minecraft,” Little Bro says as if I’m an idiot. “But I still have some chickens.”
Chickens I’m told are “good” because if you left-click an egg, it shoots fire balls.
But even better, if you have chickens you won’t starve to death. When you have chickens you have “full hunger.” Which evidently means you’re not hungry. You’re hungry when your hunger level is low.
But the best evidently is to be a monster because you don’t get killed and you never starve to death.
I wish I were a monster. Or had a chicken.
But then it happened. This!
A snow plow emerged! My husband beat me to the picture (I circled him), plowing himself through knee-high drifts to get a good close-up shot; otherwise, no one on Facebook would believe we finally got dug out.
Sweet little chickadees, you’ve been spared.