It's hard to impress on you how deep this snow is, but let's just say that I hope there's no fire. We cannot find the hydrant we're supposed to dig out. This one, a block away, at least is visible. But how do you get to it?
Brilliant blue sky. Strong wind. The air temperature is about 4 above, but the windchill is well below zero. We have spent several hours this morning, off and on, shoveling and snowblowing. Doug is going nuts with his snowblower, snowblowing neighbors' sidewalks and, after the plow came through the alley, the wall of snow left behind that blocks driveways.
We had to rush to the aid of a neighbor who tried to drive down the alley this morning, before the plow came through. He got solidly stuck, and it took three of us with shovels and pushing to get him out. His mission? He was supposed to go pick up some other people who couldn't get out of their alleys. Ah, irony.
The cleared sidewalks and the cuts through to the street look like fissures in a glacier. It is all very beautiful and still fun, but it's best not to think ahead: This snow will be with us for the next three months. That's a long, long time to live like this.
this is how we get to the street. Most of the houses on our block haven't yet cut this path--and many, I know from experience, won't. Doug cleared the public sidewalk the length of the block, but at the corner there is a three foot wall of snow pushed up by the plow, so we are essentially trapped on our street, if we are walking Boscoe. He cannot make it over that wall.
We have also cut little habit-trails all over the back yard so that the boys can do their morning ablutions.
Oh, it will be a long winter.