28 inches of Nor’easter blizzard snow is the official tally for our inner-ring Bostonian town, but I swear, the way the winds are, we ended up with at least 3 feet in our vicinity. Hey, I love snowy winters, but I like the snow to come a little bit at a time.
Same as how I love shoveling snow, but I like to shovel a little bit at a time. Not 3 feet, not when we have no convenient place to pile it. Lucky for us, our downstairs neighbor’s boyfriend has not one but two snowblowers, and he was willing to disregard the driving ban in order to blow us out. Still, some shoveling was required.
I guess this is cross-training
As for Little Boy, he was rather nonchalant about the whole snow event: how his school was closed Friday so we stayed home (ho-hum), how we couldn’t leave the house (whatever), how we woke up Saturday and suddenly there was THREE FEET of snow everywhere (huh?)
Actually, he was more scared than anything. “We’re trapped,” he kept saying. “We’re not going anywhere for a long time!” Eventually he saw that our car wouldn’t be buried forever and relaxed enough to let me pull him in the sled (we went to the playground to go sledding, but he could barely walk up the hill and complained bitterly about the cold wind, so we went home after a single hill run. After I pulled him a quarter-mile in his sled on my XC skis. More cross-training.)
Wow
