The Blizzard Of ’16 Was A Bust

Well, the Blizzard of ’16 didn’t amount to much.

Oh, I suppose if you lived in… say… DALLAS, the six inches of fresh snow that we got overnight would’ve meant something.  Schools would’ve closed, the city government would’ve shut down and everyone wearing pajama pants wouldn’t have been able to make it to Walmart.  Here, however… in Small Town, USA… six inches of new snow just meant that we had to haul the snowblower out before school, and everyone knew to reduce their traffic speeds by approximately four miles per hour.

I believe the phrase you’re looking for is SEASONED WINTER SURVIVOR.

Our poor kids were all greatly disappointed to wake up this morning and not hear the beloved words upon the radio stations:  SCHOOL HAS BEEN CANCELLED.  Our kids are tough, though, and they all know by first grade if you’re going to get a Snow Day, the good Lord above is going to have to pair BIG WIND with SIX INCHES OF SNOW ACCUMULATION.  Without the wind being factored in, even the smallest Honda hatchback can get them to their first-hour class on time.

Of course, the little bit of snow that we did get just assured me that I wouldn’t be trapped at home with drifts over the front door… WITHOUT ENOUGH COFFEE TO LAST BEYOND FOUR DAYS.  If the kids can get to school, I can get to the grocery store for Folgers’ Black Silk in a K-cup.

When Thing 2 woke up this morning and realized that there was new snow to shovel, he was every bit as excited as any other child would’ve been, had school gotten the shepherd’s hook for the day.  Thing 2 LOVES the shoveling.  He loves it like it’s donuts with sprinkles on Christmas morning.  He raced around our house, yanking on his coat and mittens, because LET’S NOT WASTE ANOTHER PRECIOUS MOMENT THAT COULD BE DEVOTED TO SHOVELING!  LET’S GO!

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Of course, sometimes a preschooler can’t resist the song of the snow angel, even if he’s just wearing his Santa pajamas beneath his coat.


The boy was nowhere near as excited about shoveling as Thing 2 was.  In fact, I believe that there was wailing and gnashing of teeth and ripping of the sackcloth when the boy woke up and heard the news:

Snow.  Shoveling.

By the time he had finally blinked the sleepy out of his eyes and made it outside, I was already inside, putting the camera away.  Of course, the boy is fifteen now and avoids my camera at all costs these days, so I have MORE SNOW SHOVELING SNAPSHOTS, from a couple of weeks ago.

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Poor Dallas misses out on so much.  They’ll never understand the concept of wearing thick snowpants (or even just Santa PJs) and digging into the manual labor of snow removal first thing in the morning.


Y’all have a good Tuesday evening.

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