Or at least it feels like I won’t. It’s been snowing here for the past 4 days, and it shows no signs of letting up. And it really isn’t that cold out, but the roads out here are anything but clear, and even after the village plow cleans up the main thoroughfares, the wind comes immediately behind them to fashion drifts.
March in CNY is a nightmare for those of us who previously knew March as the swing up into spring. Even those of us from the midwest who suffered similar snow and cold during the belly of the winter understand that March is about daffodils and tulips, about marshy melting, about breaking those bikes out and starting the tomatos indoors.
It gives new meaning to March Madness. I am MAD. And while the lovely brother did manage to shovel (and don’t ask me why he shovels when we have a perfectly good snowblower–probably the same reason why he doesn’t use the dishwasher either, although he hasn’t really been washing dishes lately, but that’s ANOTHER rant), I was out this morning in snow past my ankles, getting kicked in the face by the snowy boots of my 50 pound, 5-year-old as we negotiate his insertion into the truck. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, except now he must ride in a car seat again (after a year without needing to) because he is under 7, and NY now requires all kids under 7 to be in car seats.
Yay. Snow in the face, down the neck.
Now I understand the will to hibernate.