Friday, February 21, 2014

Ben Gay Snow Day



February 21, 2014

Snow has made it’s way under the door and into the house. Sneaky. The guy across the way, left two hours ago, making his way to the airport, and there is no sign of his footprints in the fresh flurries.

I have to generate a concrete strategy for shoveling this morning since the reservoirs are full. If I can manage to scoot the heavy mass down the long strip of driveway, may be able to accomplish it before I leave for work at 2:25, a mere seven hours from now. My arms, lower back, and hips already protest the rigorous lifting. Can hardly complain, at least I have an intact home, whose thermostat displays “59,” water runs freely out of the sink, and the shower is hot again. Fortune.

The kids are off from school so the Billy Goat tramping from upstairs, has been going on all day. Bella, the little dog I am caring for until tomorrow, sounds-off at each firm step, as though the intruder is coming down on top of our heads. After a long walk in the deep drifts, however, she is lounging on the side chair, finally accustomed to the footsteps. I fear her long, mournful howls that reverberate through the duplex, will alarm the neighbors, as I leave for my work shift. She doesn’t like being left at home, despite the fact that there is another dog here, as well as the guard cat, for companionship. No one to supply a lap for her comfort, though. Poor thing.

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