I arrived back home right before the blizzard. The three mile uphill trek from the nearest late night bus stop is a long way. There is a 24 hour store at the start of the trek and then nothing.
The storm hit and it is odd. There is no snow in the back porch. From prior storms that means head for the side door. The snow is waist deep in places. I reach front door with no effort. I have huge legs that make this an easy task. The twenty something next door is whining about having no snow shovel. I tell her to go inside after I clear the front door I will toss her this shovel and grab another from the basement. I am determined to enter the front door. After 25 minutes of digging I free the front door.
There is no land line, internet or cable. The street still has not been plowed. However, if there were an emergency the South side is a main street and the person would have to be moved there until help arrives. That street was plowed at 7:00 AM
but I have seen no traffic. Other than the hospital there isn't any place to go.
I cut a small path to the sidewalk . I have unwttingly created a wind break for a small bird that likes those dredful edemames I toss it. I am home oddly listening to my beloved surf music The Ghost Hop, Jan & Dean and the Ventures.
I now start a small tunnel to the neighbors trench. I hear a crack and look as a tree
limb narrowly misses me. Getting hit by a tree is a Vermont experience I would like to leave there. I am now 15 feet from the neighbors trench when the fireman next door waves me off. He clears the gap in minutes and cuts the 20 feet I had to attend to in seconds.
The twenty something is whining about tea bags so I give her a batch.
What I wouldn't give to have the little Maltese with me. I would love to play in this stuff with the Sprite and the Little Maltese. The Little Maltese would be angry with me for washing my sweater. He likes to nest in it and it has needed a wash for a
while but he playfully growls if you move it.