“Oh, look. Snow.”

That’s become our catch-phrase the past few days. Hard to remember back oh-so-many-flakes-ago to when I couldn’t wait to see some snow sticking to our lawn. Now I wonder if I will ever see our lawn again. Conceptually I know it is there. I have pictures from the summer as proof.

The novelty of measuring has worn off but I think we’re up to 12” or 13” of snow so far with more falling as I type. We had a break in between storms yesterday so there was quite a bit of excitement as folks tried to resume business.

Rob is ALMOST done shoveling our driveway. It’s only taken him about 4 days and now, of course, we can’t see the pavement we were so excited to discover yesterday. Debate about acquiring a snow blower vs. a snow plow attachment for the riding mower is under way. Complicating the debate is the constant reminder from the media that this is The 40 Year Storm, with nothing rivaling it since 1968.

Judi, our newspaper deliverer, called mid-day yesterday to give us a verbal map of where to find our paper. We chatted for a bit. I asked her how the roads were. “We haven’t left the house in about a week,” I said. “Yeah, I could tell.”

A little while later, Rob and I were chatting by the garage as he took a break from shoveling. Our UPS driver came plowing down our road. Hadn’t seen him in about a week either. He stopped at the end of our driveway, got out, trudged a box a few feet onto the unshoveled end of our driveway, plopped the box in the snow, and rather grumpily yelled out, “I’m leaving your box here.” Poor guy was not having a good day. And it didn’t get any better for a while as he tried to leave our corner of the neighborhood several times and ended up literally stuck near our mailbox. I have to admit, his language did bring some much needed color to the hill.

By the time I had rounded up some cookies, candy, and bottled water to help thaw Mr. UPS’s mood, the entire male posse of the large Ukrainian family up the hill were helping Rob and the driver dig his truck out of the snow. After much yelling – some in English – and a false start or two, Mr. UPS and his two-wheel-drive truck made off the hill to spattered applause and some more yelling. There’s a really good chance we’ll never see the driver again, as I suspect he has now either quit his job or asked for a new route.

Sometime long after dark, three days’ worth of mail was delivered. About that same time we optimistically put now two weeks’ worth of trash out. Word this morning is that we’ll be going for three weeks’ accumulation. Sigh. Good news, though. It’s cold enough in the garage that the trash is nicely refrigerated and therefore not terribly aromatic.

Although Rob’s bowling league was cancelled last night – the alley’s manager has been busy trying to get snow off the building’s flat roof – Rob and I decided a week was long enough and it was time to GET OFF THIS HILL.

It was rather exhilarating and much less harrowing than we feared. Thank God for AWD and chains. We passed some snowplows along the way and were a bit overwhelmed by all of the traffic in town. Aside from some ice near a freeway entrance (we went wild and drove all the way to another town!), the worst part of the ride was in town where the snow and ice have been compacted by so many cars and trucks. Lots and lots of bumpy ruts and divots. Oh, and very interesting to a Californian: all the sewer covers were nicely exposed. Perfectly round holes in the snowy roads. Just as I was trying to figure out why the public works department would spend its time clearing man hole covers when there are so many more pressing activities, Rob offered, “Sewage is hot.” Oh! And ewww.

After stops at the post office, the drug store, the grocery store, a pizza joint, and a parking lot chat with a young guy from Arizona who had his car packed and was in the midst of moving to Seattle despite defective chains, we reluctantly headed back home. We made it just fine. We really do love Woodhaven. Just not for days and days and days on end.

"Oh, look. Our living room."