A few weeks ago, we got a lovely snowstorm here, the likes of which I haven't seen since high school. I took quite a few pictures, and now I finally have the chance to post them! Oh, and since then, it's snowed
twice more here, including a dusting this morning. Our construction-site neighborhood looks so much more beautiful with a blanket of snow. You
almost can't see the silt fences anymore. Almost.
The front door of our cute little townhouse.
Our next-door neighbors' front door. They didn't even bother digging it out, using their back door instead. But they're from upstate NY, so I guess they're used to it. The UPS man wasn't, though. He delivered a package to them a few days after this picture was taken, just throwing it into the snowdrift as close as he could get it to the door. They had to go dig it out.
My wonderful hubby was so diligent about digging us out. He must have shoveled the driveway 3 times on Saturday and at least twice on Sunday, "just in case you go into labor". I tried to explain to him that if I went into labor at 35 weeks, I'd have to go to the hospital anyway, at which point we'd call an ambulance. But the drive to protect and provide was just too strong, so I gave up trying to talk him out of it and just made him hot chocolate when he came in.
Our car is under there somewhere; I promise.
Tadpole and I enjoyed snowdrifts up to my waist (though Adrian worried constantly about me hurting myself)... and my coat still zips! Score!
The front door of our cute little townhouse.
Our next-door neighbors' front door. They didn't even bother digging it out, using their back door instead. But they're from upstate NY, so I guess they're used to it. The UPS man wasn't, though. He delivered a package to them a few days after this picture was taken, just throwing it into the snowdrift as close as he could get it to the door. They had to go dig it out.
My wonderful hubby was so diligent about digging us out. He must have shoveled the driveway 3 times on Saturday and at least twice on Sunday, "just in case you go into labor". I tried to explain to him that if I went into labor at 35 weeks, I'd have to go to the hospital anyway, at which point we'd call an ambulance. But the drive to protect and provide was just too strong, so I gave up trying to talk him out of it and just made him hot chocolate when he came in.
Our car is under there somewhere; I promise.
Tadpole and I enjoyed snowdrifts up to my waist (though Adrian worried constantly about me hurting myself)... and my coat still zips! Score!
1 comment:
And to think I missed all the snowy excitement! Though the dusting this morning was lovely.
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