The scrape of metal against concrete is my usual clue that we received a bunch of new snow overnight. Without even opening my eyes, I can hear my neighbor– the early bird snow enthusiast who LIVES to shovel snow– outside my window.
This morning I woke to absolute silence. When I peaked between the slats on our bedroom shades, I gasped when I couldn’t even see my neighbor’s house. The only reason he’s skip shoveling was that too much snow was on its way for even HIM to be out “getting a head start.”
Since then, it has continued to come down. The wind has picked up and the world outside is swirling with white.
Interstates and highways are closed, the plows have been ordered off the roads, and the Minneapolis airport is closed. We are in all-out blizzard mode around here. There’s a certain energy that happens with a blizzard, a sense of adventure. It’s kind of… fun, really. Within the same 10 minutes this morning dinner invitations were swirling around my group of friends, all of us inviting someone over to “be snowed in” with. Finally, one of my friends untangled the web of invitations and declared that the group should come to her place. A snow day party!
Our electricity has flickered a few times, but so far we still have power and– more importantly– gas. David took Marin earlier to slip and slide their way to the grocery store, so we’re stocked up and snuggled in. I just looked out the window and it’s DEEP out there… I’m starting to wonder if we even CAN go to our friends’ house. Crazy that we might not be able to drive 5 blocks to hang out. And since it’s supposed to get windier and colder as night falls, it’s probably not possible to walk, either.
Our neighbor bundled up and walked over a little while ago with his daughter. He helped David with a few things and then they bundled back up and went back to his house to work on a few things. I currently have an extra child in the house, and the kids are painting and humming Christmas tunes and giggling and talking about the horse movie they watched earlier.
The world is closing down, and yet I just saw our mail lady deliver our mail to the front door.
My cat is sleeping, sprawled in a way that can only mean she’s warm. Kate walks by with a fistful of candy canes for the group and pauses to coo at her and give her a pet.
I just put some water on for Erica’s salt caramel hot chocolate. Though, mine isn’t sugar-free.
I see David has returned home and has fired up our snow blower. The path he is snow blowing is blowing over as fast as he blows it open. I wonder if he’s noticed that. He’s going to come in soon, and we’ll have to decide about going over to our friends’ house.
Either way, I’m content.