6 days ago, I thought this was a lot of snow.
We had 23 inches of snow in about 18 hours. It was a lot, but it mostly happened over night.
This is a full-sized table. It used to sit in my kitchen, now in the backyard.
Afraid that the weight of the snow would collapse our deck, Joe and I shoveled the snow off. It was clear when we were finished.
The snow was up over Grace's waist. She's 40 inches tall.
She liked the snow. We all liked it.
Last week, a bunch of snow was cool, unique, fun, and exciting.
This week, we're so over the snow.
We got another 19 inches of snow yesterday. Again, it fell over 18 hours or so, but most of it came during daybreak. We watched it pile up.
The deck, where we'd shoveled on Saturday, was re-covered.
The front and back yards, normally steeply sloped, are gently sloped now, almost flat.
My cats want to go out.
They can't go out because their cat door is under a foot of snow. The door won't open. They don't understand. They go downstairs and howl and cry and whine because they want to go ooooooouuuuutttttt.
Even if the door could open, the snow is deeper than the cats are tall. They'd be stuck.
That doesn't stop them – all 4 of them – from sitting in front of the door and looking at it longingly. Today, I opened the sliding door so that they could see what they're missing.
Sammy went outside, sank down into the snow, and needed rescuing. The others were smart enough to stay on the dry side of the door.
I'm so over this snow.
Bring on the spring.
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