Well, I never thought I would be, or even feel like, I was in New York again, but alas, this week in the Pacific Northwest has proven me wrong. I feel like I’m in New York.
I grew up with snow, lots and lots of snow. At least 7 months out of the year I was outside at any conceivable hour shoveling snow. There are so many things that take me back there: the smell of snow (and yes, it does have a scent), the glistening of snow, stomping along in my snow boots (so glad I kept them), the thought of salt-stained pants, and the undeniable need to wear gloves.
Snow is romantic at first, but then it becomes like that guy you just could not get rid of. You try at first to be polite, establish boundaries (i.e. shovel only a small pathway believing that snow will take a hint and hit the road), then you attempt a little more aggressive approach and put (just a little bit) of natural salt on the driveway, because you do have to work tomorrow. You wake up and its (he) is still there. What the F***!?!
Its now day 6 of snow, the whole town is still covered in a white, the whole town who shut down Wednesday is now having to learn how to live and drive in snow. It was supposed to melt, to disappear, but the snow did not listen to the weather forecast apparently.
Lessoned learned: We need to buy and shovel, tire chains (because they do not salt anywhere), and environmentally friendly salt asap.
I had these “We need to buy these asap” thoughts before, but we were told it barely snows here, then it snowed and then snowed again, I had the same thoughts “We need to buy these asap,” but then the “It couldn’t possibly snow again so why bother” thought happened. And that is how we ended up with snow #4, completely unprepared again….
And now, its a mute point, as local shops have pretty much sold out of all the above, and Amazon is back-ordered. Fingers-crossed snow #5 decides to head for the mountains where it will be appreciated and not cursed on a daily basis.