TWENTY FOUR INCHES ... of snow.
And by "fantastic", I mean, "If you were lucky enough to be inside when it all hit".
HDHusband made it back from the hospital yesterday afternoon, but is on call. And I'd say that pretty much sucks for him and them if something happens. Currently, you can't get through the two feet or more of snow in our driveway. He's making a mental note to park his car outside the next time.
Because the City of Denver forgets about our neighborhood during snowstorms, the plows haven't been through. And not because of all the other streets they have to cover. It has something to do with our neighborhood and the city government. They probably won't be through until at least Sunday. If that.
I looked out earlier to see someone with a lone snow blower trying to clear off the road. What good intentions. Five minutes later, a huge Army truck type-thingie (owned/rented/whatever) by a neighbor a few streets down came rumbling by. He kept rumbling by for hours, trying to mash the snow down and did an excellent job.
Which leaves our sidewalk, steps and driveway. All of which will take the better part of tomorrow to shovel through. This will blow goats.
HDH: When is this shit supposed to melt?
Me: Not for a while.
HDH: I'd go shovel but I'm too fucking lazy.
So far, we've managed to be holed up together without any major incidents, like me stabbing him in the face for talking about Fantasy Football.*
I chided HDHusband about something earlier, and he said, "Are you crazy?? I'm not pissing you off. We're stuck in this house together until God knows when! I HAVE NO PLACE TO GO, WOMAN!" and retreated to the basement to watch the movie HBO did about the tsunami that hit Thailand.**
While I was on the phone with Fyrchk, HDToddler flew down a flight of stairs, head first, and into the wall. No major injuries. After he settled down, he stood up and kicked my husband in the stomach (he was laying on the floor). This brought my great joy, of course.
I've run out of things to entertain my son with, so I tossed him in the bath for about 45 minutes. I even let him take the Spiderman umbrella in, too. Such a cool mom, I tell you.
Up next ... my grandmother from New Mexico will be at our house for a few hours on Sunday. She's already bitching about the weather and telling me I should be nicer to my mother. Good times. We haven't opened her Christmas gift yet, but I'm hoping it's the gloves to go with this jacket she sent a few months back.
Documented proof of the 2 feet plus of snow at my casa:
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That's our driveway. I don't think it's getting unsnowed anytime soon. Until then, we're holed up, nice and warm, have enough wine (or a martini, if I can figure out this new recipe) to last us until, well, we run out.
* HDH is pissed no one has laughed or commented on his comment in the Fantasy Football post a couple down. Therefore, I will recreate for you the funny that is HDH (and it really is kind of funny. Kind of.):
"HDH said...
Hey - I made 2nd place. Made some bucks. It could be worse - mistress, gambler, druggie, slob, obese, drunk, cross dresser, compulsive masturbater, molester, strip club junkie, etc. At least my wife always knows where I am on Sunday - at the group circle jerk known as fantasy FB. And, I always piss and shit on the paper."
** Apparently, this movie is quite good. I know a lot of you might really enjoy this movie. USA Today says it sucks. Whatever. My husband swore he had no idea what the moisture was when it came from his eyes. I could not watch it. I started to, but I couldn't finish. I don't do well with children dying. Or really, anybody dying, but now having birthed something that I would certainly wish to live before me, I couldn't. He tells me I need to 'watch this because it puts faces to the tragedy'. But I do that EVERY. SINGLE. TIME I hear the news or read about a horrible accident. Regardless, HDH gives it 'two thumbs up' and 'prepare to cry like a little girl'. Not that there's anything wrong with this.
(look for Love Thursday next week ...)
