|DUELING BLOGS with D-L and J - http://theexpatwriter.blogspot.ch/2018/03/snow-day.html and http://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.ch/2018/03/snow-day-in-switzerland.html|
To me, snow is a four-letter word.
1. You can't play golf in the snow. 2. You can't drive in the snow. 3. The only way to get rid of it is to shovel or wait until Spring. (Oh, wait, yesterday was the first day of meteorological spring - https://www.accuweather.com/en/weather-news/whats-the-difference-between-meteorological-and-astronomical-spring/70000979.)
Arriving late by train from Paris the night before, and with sparse wifi connections, I was not aware that a storm was expected. D-L was too sleepy groggy to warn me that the white stuff was coming. I hadn't even bothered to put the tarp over the car because I figured any windshield frost would melt before we needed to leave for our lunch appointment.
Quelle surprise! I woke to a blanket of white about 4-6 inches deep and rising.
Of course the dog needed to go out.
Sherlock loved it. I think he thought he was at the beach and the snow was the sand he loves to dig in and burrow his nose under. At times he hopped around like a rabbit, nipping at the chunks of snow he kicked up.
He stayed out much longer than I would have preferred. Every ... time ... during ... the ... entire ... day. (By the way, kids, don't eat yellow snow.)
Our lunch was cancelled, and we weren't going anywhere, so we decided to chill and make it a real "snow day."
Of course, I can't be idle for long, so I bundled up and went looking for a shovel. The landlord's car was gone, and the gate was open, so I thought perhaps they used a plowing service to come and clear the driveway. Nonetheless, I found an old small pushbroom in a shed and used that to brush the snow off our Peugot. The broom didn't work as well on the ground, so back to the shed where I found a rake. That worked better, but not entirely as the snow was too deep.
I wandered out to another shed off the front yard, found an old broom lying next to it ... then the motherlode inside - an actual shovel, and a sturdy one at that.
D-L expressed the opinion that, at my age, I shouldn't be shoveling snow at all. She had read something that said men over 50 should refrain from the strain - http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/shovelling-snow-heart-attacks-cardiac-arrest-research-bmj-deaths-winter-a8103166.html.
It took me about four sessions to almost completely clear the driveway and the steps leading to our garden apartment. Judicious rest in between.
I'm glad I did, though. After a mild thaw through the day and the cold air returning overnight, the snow would have been impenetrable ice today. And we do have to go out on some errands.
I must admit, the crystal stillness of the day was beautiful. The airport was closed, so no aircraft engine noise reverberating across the lake. Almost no traffic on the roads. You could distinctly head individual birds trilling. The conversations of people walking by. And when Sherlock and I stepped out for his Noon romp, the church bells rang and rang as clearly as if we were standing next to the bell tower.
I'll still be glad when it melts.