shoveling

So the weekend hit and we were all ready to go to "the city" to get some much-needed house supplies, like a ladder so we could put up our storm windows.

SNOWSTORM.

It snowed Friday night. It snowed all day Saturday. It snowed on Sunday, and now it's Monday and this morning there were large cheerful flakes still falling out of the sky. We were unable to purchase any of our supplies.

The very best part is, Mark's back has been bothering him quite a bit for like a month now, so guess who bought a shovel and then shoveled off the deck and then the driveway. In snow up to my knees. Multiple times. One time, I shoveled off the deck and worked my way out to the road, and then once I got there it was still snowing so hard that I had to turn around and shovel my way back, and then shovel the deck again on my way into the house.

It's actually not that bad. It's nice to get exercise outdoors and accomplish something at the same time, and I'm only a bit stiff and not achy-all-over. Poor Mark, on the other hand, seems to feel tortured that I'm doing all the physical work around here. He shouldn't though, since his back is so sore that he can't even lay down for an entire night any more. There's a clinic in town that's open two days a week, but they don't have room for new patients.

Off we will go to to the hospital in the next town tomorrow. Mark is amazed that I would suggest going to the hospital - I think he thinks you're only allowed to go there if you get taken by ambulance for a medical emergency. Nuh-uh, this is how it works in rural communities! (Hey Dr. Justin, I have some career advice for you if you still haven't made up your mind, hint hint. Come fix Mark's back.)

Oliver is doing amazingly well in the snow. Saturday morning, when there was something close to two feet of snow on the ground and the plows hadn't yet been by, he had issues. I had to carry him to the school next door and walk him in the shelter of a wall where the wind had blown the snow away. Every time we passed a door, he scratched at it and cried.

Later that day though, after the roads had been plowed and after I'd shoveled the driveway for like the twentieth time, he was fine. We now know that he prefers snow to rain, and as long as we keep walking and the snow's not over his head, he's perfectly content. Good thing! Arlo of course was thrilled to be in the snow and bounced all over the place. I even kept him out with me while I was (surprise) shoveling, and he had fun.

One last thing: I was just now washing my dishes and noticed that on the bottom of our set of hand-me-down bowls it says "Tuscan Fine English Bone China". Ah crap, I thought, am I putting my Special K in something expensive? I looked it up on the internet, and shouldn't have. Firstly, yes, it can tend to be kinda expensive, and secondly? Bone China? It's made from BONES. COW BONES.

Ah crap.