Over the years, I've generally grown to dislike large snowstorms and blizzards because it's meant a disruption in visits from aides for personal care. That means I go without assistance for things such as - eating. Being hungry is no fun, no matter how pretty the snow might look. I start fantasizing about putting some syrup on it and making a snow cone. Snow mounds look like marshmallows. S'mores! Mmmm.
Luckily, Meredith has always been great about coming over when it snows and I'm very grateful to her for that. Having lived in Rochester, NY, she considers most of the snowfalls around here too small to even count. "This is snow?" she scoffs, shaking something white off her shoes and throwing open the front door. "People around here don't know what snow is!"
However, yesterday, although Meredith was willing to come over after the blizzard (which she was still saying was "just some white stuff"), I was plowed in. There was nowhere for her to put her car. The landscapers who dig us out came around 9pm . I greeted the guys with the snow blowers and shovels with "Hey, can you open this for me?" and handed them a few pieces of wrapped cheese to unwrap so I could eat something. They offered to take the smelly garbage out too.
More importantly, they plowed - which is great. I could eat a- snowdrift.