On the other side of the storm door

She's given us a break...Mother Nature that is. The sun, which hasn't been seen since last Wednesday, spent the day with us, pouring into every window on the south side of the house. It almost warmed the glassed-in porch to the point where I could sit out there in a coat and have my afternoon coffee. It pooled on the living room floor where the visiting black Lab found it, claimed it and took a long, snore-filled nap in it.

The neighbors are back from three weeks in Kenya, halle-@#&!!-luja. I am never offering to keep their snow cleared again. How was I supposed to know that we would have a six incher, an eight incher, another four incher, then a wet, heavy six incher and enough rain to turn everything into a glacier overnight? It's like someone was trying to teach me a frickin' lesson.

The sidewalks are so treacherous that walking the two big visitors is not an option, unless I strap on some ice-skates and tell them to giddyup and go. Down in the park, where there are probably some beautiful blips just waiting, there are no walkable or ski-able trails. The only walkable trails are the very short ones that we shoveled in back yard for the pooches so they can maneuver around and do their things.

It feels a bit like being stuck...fortunately, stuck on the warm, toasty side of the storm door. Thank heavens for the lovely winter scenery blips from people who aren't as cowardly about icy conditions as I am.