After the Storm

Above is a shot of Sunday's sunrise on the creek, after this weekend's snow storm. For the life of me, I don't know why I was up at sunrise on Sunday because ordinarily I'd sleep until as late as possible o'clock. But that's not what I'm here to talk about.

Below is a shot of the creek during the height of the storm on Saturday, from about the same vantage point except slightly zoomed in. You can call me weird (and why shouldn't you), but I really love a good storm, especially a good snow storm.

When all that snow was coming down, and the TV people were freaking out saying, "This is The Big One, Elizabeth!" I thought it was great. In fact, I was a little disappointed to wake up Sunday to the sun. Another day of blizzard-like conditions would have guaranteed no commuting to the paying job for at least a day or two would have been just fine with me.

Sunday morning after the sun rose I ventured out to start shoveling, sweeping, and hoeing the snow so I could get down the steps without breaking my neck reach my car, which was completely covered. Yes, I said hoeing.

Snow hoeing is a little-known technique that one resorts to when one does not possess a snow shovel. It dates back to Never, because nobody in their right mind would use a hoe to shovel snow earlier times when people made do with what they had.When one's back threatens to give out after hoisting seven thousand pounds of snow with a shovel designed to transport feathers dirt and dig holes, one resorts to Plan B: the hoe.

By the way--just so you know--Plan B would work Never, it doesn't work at all unless your goal is to become exasperated if the hoe were slightly bigger and the operator's blood pressure were slightly lower.

Plan C involved extensive pondering of this question: Does an electric leaf blower work on snow? Surely it must. This plan became more and more appealing with each flake of snow that, one by one, was barely moved by the garden implement known as a hoe. Then I remembered an electrical cord, an electrical socket, and snow--which contains water--were involved.

Water, electricity and Chesapeake Bay Woman do not mix.

Neither does a gardening hoe and snow, for future reference.