Okay. Snowpocalypse can just fuckin END now.
First, let me state that I am now FINE. No frostbite, no hypothermia, etc, etc. Because this next statement will reveal the danger I was in.
I WAS FUCKIN TRAPPED OUTSIDE IN THE FUCKIN SNOWPOCALYPSE FOR THIRTY FUCKIN MINUTES.
I woke up this morning to shovel the back porch for the dog, since the snow is now twice as high as she is. She refused to go out last night because it was so deep, and I don't blame her.
Since there's a lot of snow and it's somewhat heavy, I shoveled off the back steps, part of the porch and a small clearing on the lawn before I decided that was enough and let Lorraine out.
At least, that was the plan.
When I went to open the door, I discovered the handle was frozen on the outside (either that or the lever became accidentally set to lock- it's a storm door.) At any rate, I could not open it. AT ALL.
So there I was, outside in freezing temperatures while the snow continued to fall at a good clip. I began to bang on the door with my snow shovel, hoping to wake ambug666 up.
TOK-TOK-TOK. TOK... TOK... TOK... TOK-TOK-TOK.
I did that five or six times before I decided that he wasn't hearing me. I cursed myself for not bringing my phone out with me and considered my options.
I could wait until ambug666 woke up. Um, NO. Bad idea.
So I went with door number two- shoveling a path to my front door.
What I haven't told you yet is that I unlocked the front door to get the shovel from the front porch. So I knew the front door was accessible. Since it was protected by the overhang, snow couldn't freeze on the doorknob outside. This seemed like the best option. Thus, the shoveling began.
Once I left the porch, I only worried about shoveling enough snow out of my way so I wouldn't sink into it. I suppose I could've just tramped through the snow without the extra work, but I had been out roughly 15 minutes at this point. I wanted to minimize my body's contact with the snow as much as possible since I didn't know how long this would take me. I was dressed warmly for the most part. All except my pants.
Anyway, I began shoveling a path to our gate. This involved going down the 'narrow' side of the house- I guess that there's 48 inches between the house and the fence on that side. My shovel has a 20 inch blade. There wasn't a lot of room to put the shoveled snow. Yay.
About halfway, I realized that the gate opened outward. You know, where the snow was at least two feet deep, if the wind hadn't whipped up a drift. But what could I do? I figured I would push as hard as I could and hope I could open the gate.
Once I got to the gate, the snow that had accumulated on it and the surrounding fence fell on me. Sigh. I tried to undo the gate 'lock'. Because of the gloves I wore (thanks so much to ambug666's great aunt for the gift of his Thinsulate waterproof gloves, BTW), I couldn't get a hold of the locking latch to undo it. So I pulled a hand out of the nice, warm, DRY-ON-THE-INSIDE glove and undid the latch, getting ice and snow all over my hand. Which I shoved as quickly as I could back into the glove.
I pushed on the gate. It barely moved. I shouldered my not-inconsiderable weight against the gate. Eventually, it opened JUST ENOUGH to let me escape the back yard.
When I tried to close it, however, I had a problem.
The snow had fallen on the 'inside' part of the yard so I couldn't close the gate all the way. This was a problem since there was NO FUCKIN WAY IN HELL I was going to walk the dog in this shit, I knew I couldn't latch it and Lorraine knew that this gate is a means of escape from the yard and well, just lookee here, I had shoveled a path of sorts from the back porch to the gate. Wheee!
So I pushed it as closed as I could. Then I started to shovel and pack snow against the front of the gate. I figured that would work to contain the dog. She's strong, but not that strong.
So, victory! I was in the front yard! I was so close to my goal I could taste it! And yet, and yet... AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!
In my brilliance of planning and forethought last night, I parked on the driveway as close as I could to my house, mere inches from the garage door. And I instructed ambug666 to park on the driveway as close as he could to me, in front of my car, so we could both be off the street for better the plows to plow snow with. Or something. This meant that there was a barrier of Detroit's pride and joy between me and the front door. FUCK!
After analyzing the situation, I decided the best option would be to shovel off part of the hood of my car and climb over the spot between our vehicles. ambug666 left enough space between our cars that someone could possibly walk between them, if it weren't for the fact that there was at least two feet of snow on the ground. So. That's what I did. With a combination of sliding on my ass over the hood of my car and stepping between the vehicles, I got to the other side of the Great Wall of GM. Huzzah!
So now all I had to do was shovel a path to the front door. Again, FUCK! This presented its own set of problems.
We have a large evergreen bush near our front door that has suffered greatly from the weight of past snows. I did not want to shovel more snow on it, especially after all the steps I took to protect it from this storm. Remember, there's the Great Wall of GM on one side of the driveway, and the snow has to go somewhere when I shovel it.
Ah, fuck this. I was rapidly approaching the point of NOT CARING. I was tiring out, I'd been fighting some kind of bug the last few days, and I wanted TO GET BACK INSIDE, DAMMNIT. So I continued to shovel, moving snow as best I could given the obstacles (which, yes, did include a scoopful on top of the damn bush) until I got to the front door. Success. Yay!
After tiredly pounding my feet and brushing snow off my body, I got inside, called Lorraine, and let her out. Remember, the whole reason for me being outside was to shovel a spot for the dog.
She took one look, and REFUSED TO GO OUT. FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-I-CAN'T-BELIEVE-I-JUST-WENT-THROUGH-ALL-THIS-SHIT-YOU-UNGRATEFUL-BITCH!
Ahem.
At least, that was her initial reaction. After effectively ORDERING her to go out, she went, eyes squinted and ears flicked back, occasionally looking back at me as if to say, "Do I really have to be out here?"
Yes, dog, yes you do.
She made it up to me, however, by being a nice lap warmer when I sat down. She's just small enough to be a large lap dog. *g*
I'm sure, one day I will look back on this and laugh. I'm sort-of laughing now. In that bitter, cynical way. Y'know?
I WAS FUCKIN TRAPPED OUTSIDE IN THE FUCKIN SNOWPOCALYPSE FOR THIRTY FUCKIN MINUTES.
I woke up this morning to shovel the back porch for the dog, since the snow is now twice as high as she is. She refused to go out last night because it was so deep, and I don't blame her.
Since there's a lot of snow and it's somewhat heavy, I shoveled off the back steps, part of the porch and a small clearing on the lawn before I decided that was enough and let Lorraine out.
At least, that was the plan.
When I went to open the door, I discovered the handle was frozen on the outside (either that or the lever became accidentally set to lock- it's a storm door.) At any rate, I could not open it. AT ALL.
So there I was, outside in freezing temperatures while the snow continued to fall at a good clip. I began to bang on the door with my snow shovel, hoping to wake ambug666 up.
TOK-TOK-TOK. TOK... TOK... TOK... TOK-TOK-TOK.
I did that five or six times before I decided that he wasn't hearing me. I cursed myself for not bringing my phone out with me and considered my options.
I could wait until ambug666 woke up. Um, NO. Bad idea.
So I went with door number two- shoveling a path to my front door.
What I haven't told you yet is that I unlocked the front door to get the shovel from the front porch. So I knew the front door was accessible. Since it was protected by the overhang, snow couldn't freeze on the doorknob outside. This seemed like the best option. Thus, the shoveling began.
Once I left the porch, I only worried about shoveling enough snow out of my way so I wouldn't sink into it. I suppose I could've just tramped through the snow without the extra work, but I had been out roughly 15 minutes at this point. I wanted to minimize my body's contact with the snow as much as possible since I didn't know how long this would take me. I was dressed warmly for the most part. All except my pants.
Anyway, I began shoveling a path to our gate. This involved going down the 'narrow' side of the house- I guess that there's 48 inches between the house and the fence on that side. My shovel has a 20 inch blade. There wasn't a lot of room to put the shoveled snow. Yay.
About halfway, I realized that the gate opened outward. You know, where the snow was at least two feet deep, if the wind hadn't whipped up a drift. But what could I do? I figured I would push as hard as I could and hope I could open the gate.
Once I got to the gate, the snow that had accumulated on it and the surrounding fence fell on me. Sigh. I tried to undo the gate 'lock'. Because of the gloves I wore (thanks so much to ambug666's great aunt for the gift of his Thinsulate waterproof gloves, BTW), I couldn't get a hold of the locking latch to undo it. So I pulled a hand out of the nice, warm, DRY-ON-THE-INSIDE glove and undid the latch, getting ice and snow all over my hand. Which I shoved as quickly as I could back into the glove.
I pushed on the gate. It barely moved. I shouldered my not-inconsiderable weight against the gate. Eventually, it opened JUST ENOUGH to let me escape the back yard.
When I tried to close it, however, I had a problem.
The snow had fallen on the 'inside' part of the yard so I couldn't close the gate all the way. This was a problem since there was NO FUCKIN WAY IN HELL I was going to walk the dog in this shit, I knew I couldn't latch it and Lorraine knew that this gate is a means of escape from the yard and well, just lookee here, I had shoveled a path of sorts from the back porch to the gate. Wheee!
So I pushed it as closed as I could. Then I started to shovel and pack snow against the front of the gate. I figured that would work to contain the dog. She's strong, but not that strong.
So, victory! I was in the front yard! I was so close to my goal I could taste it! And yet, and yet... AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!
In my brilliance of planning and forethought last night, I parked on the driveway as close as I could to my house, mere inches from the garage door. And I instructed ambug666 to park on the driveway as close as he could to me, in front of my car, so we could both be off the street for better the plows to plow snow with. Or something. This meant that there was a barrier of Detroit's pride and joy between me and the front door. FUCK!
After analyzing the situation, I decided the best option would be to shovel off part of the hood of my car and climb over the spot between our vehicles. ambug666 left enough space between our cars that someone could possibly walk between them, if it weren't for the fact that there was at least two feet of snow on the ground. So. That's what I did. With a combination of sliding on my ass over the hood of my car and stepping between the vehicles, I got to the other side of the Great Wall of GM. Huzzah!
So now all I had to do was shovel a path to the front door. Again, FUCK! This presented its own set of problems.
We have a large evergreen bush near our front door that has suffered greatly from the weight of past snows. I did not want to shovel more snow on it, especially after all the steps I took to protect it from this storm. Remember, there's the Great Wall of GM on one side of the driveway, and the snow has to go somewhere when I shovel it.
Ah, fuck this. I was rapidly approaching the point of NOT CARING. I was tiring out, I'd been fighting some kind of bug the last few days, and I wanted TO GET BACK INSIDE, DAMMNIT. So I continued to shovel, moving snow as best I could given the obstacles (which, yes, did include a scoopful on top of the damn bush) until I got to the front door. Success. Yay!
After tiredly pounding my feet and brushing snow off my body, I got inside, called Lorraine, and let her out. Remember, the whole reason for me being outside was to shovel a spot for the dog.
She took one look, and REFUSED TO GO OUT. FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-I-CAN'T-BELIEVE-I-JUST-WENT-THROUGH-ALL-THIS-SHIT-YOU-UNGRATEFUL-BITCH!
Ahem.
At least, that was her initial reaction. After effectively ORDERING her to go out, she went, eyes squinted and ears flicked back, occasionally looking back at me as if to say, "Do I really have to be out here?"
Yes, dog, yes you do.
She made it up to me, however, by being a nice lap warmer when I sat down. She's just small enough to be a large lap dog. *g*
I'm sure, one day I will look back on this and laugh. I'm sort-of laughing now. In that bitter, cynical way. Y'know?