Another experience to add to our list of 'new life experiences'. We became snowbound late Friday night. We had a heavy snowfall that left us trapped at our house. We heard the reports of the impending snow... but really paid it little heed. I went shopping (twice) on Friday for provisions for my husband's birthday party - and was met with an onslaught of panicked shoppers. It wasn't until I was at the check-out, standing behind another five people with laden carts (with every check-out the same), that it occurred to me that, perhaps, I should be buying provisions?!
Nah. I decided. It appears that our experience of snowstorms in Chicago was quite a misleading example: snowplows were ready to catch the first snowflakes before they hit the road, stores remained open, and really, not too much snow would fall. It was just really cold. Not too much of an imposition at all.
When some of our friends were not able to make it to our party on Sunday as their road (and ours) had not been cleared, it began to dawn on us that this whole storm-warning thing did have some credence. We instructed the kids to go easy on the milk. Our other guests (neighbors) were able to make it to the party once a clear passage had been shoveled between their driveway and ours.
Darling husband did a massive effort clearing our driveway - some 70 meters long covered with almost 2 feet of snow - attacking it with Olympic-like fervor. We were very sad to hear that a neighbor, whom I had just met a couple of weeks earlier, passed away after having a snow-shoveling-provoked heart-attack. He was only 52. I instructed exuberant snow-shoveling husband to take it easy. This whole beautiful, soft, fuzzy, romantic snow thing has a sinister side.
