What a time!

There was a giant snowstorm overnight; I awoke to more than forty-five centimeters of mozzarella covering everything. 

By sunup, the plows still hadn't come thru, and all the roads were untravellable. So I laced on my waterproof boots and went out to shovel the driveway. 

My neighbor Anthony across the street was out shoveling too, and he gave me a hale welcome. I told him that I need to be on the road by 9:30 am to drive to my studio in Burnhaven, because I'm scheduled to start teaching at ten o'clock sharp. 

He said "I don't think your little electric car is going to make it thru this stuff." 

I said "Yeah, I know; but I'm hoping the plows come thru pretty soon." 

My next-door neighbor Joe was also out there shoveling. Having caught the end of our shouted conversation, he said: "I wouldn't count on getting out of here anytime soon. The plows will most likely be clearing the main roads first; our street is not their top priority." 

And it turned out that Joe was right: for they didn't show up to clear the snow from our local roads until 2:30 pm! 

So, in hindsight, I should've just called it a Snow Day and canceled everything. Instead, I opted to telephone all my students, one by one, as each of their lesson-times approached, and set up remote sessions piecemeal over the Internet. (I hate teaching over the Internet!) So that was a drag. 

But the good aspect of the day was that I got to see my neighbors and talk with them, as we all marveled at the snowfall. Our street's elected president, Bruce, who occupies the white house yonder, even came over and used his snow-blower to remove the huge, heavy slopes that the plows left in their wake at the end of all of our driveways and in front of our mailboxes. 

P.S.

After my lessons ended, I used the rest of the day to have fun. First, as a reward for doing all that shoveling earlier, I treated myself to a dinner of tomato soup. Then I fired up the oven and spent the evening baking gingerbread and listening to old rock-&-roll tunes.