Snowed In
Yes, they have brought it here, I just KNOW! First February in over 22 years that the 'rents have been in Connecticut! It started Friday morning...
Dad was already feeling housebound...Must've been because he left the front door open all night Thursday. He says on Friday morning, after I suggested he remember to close the doors when he leaves the house, then again when he comes home.
"It wasn't me", actually came out of his mouth. Well, Dad, now I'm not shoveling out the front of the house, so YOU will HAVE to use the back door. There will be no more discussion of this till spring (yeah, right!). Of course, we will have to get rid of those 6 foot drifts in order to get mail, so I'm just blowing smoke!
He did prepare, by doing yet another grocery trip on Thursday. But he bought soda...can't run out of Root Beer! and blueberry muffins! Meat, chicken, actual real food? No. Good thing I'm a New England girl...I bought the important stuff...potatoes to go with a long frozen pork loin...applesauce to make cake...kettlecorn...a box of Russell Stover's...Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Cake...Snapple!
Think about it - what did you all buy anyway? A blizzard is the perfect opportunity to clean out the freezer, and that's what we've been doing. Pork loin on Friday, leftovers on Saturday, Chicken last night, tonight was frozen hors d'oevres. I know Dad really wants to go to the grocery store.
Friday we pretty much just watched the snow, like everyone else. Dad, who couldn't remember what happened 35 years ago, just bemoaned the fact that it was a lot of snow, and gave us the temperature in Florida as he continued to call his neighbors and friends. Mom kept saying how pretty it all was...all day. I got tired of counting after I heard it 20 times. She walked over to the back picture window, stand there for a few minutes and say, "Oh, it's snowing? How pretty! What are the birds going to do?"
We all ate together at the table on Friday...when I grew up, we had to put the food in serving dishes and bring it to the table. We had a dishwasher. I haven't had a dishwasher, except for a year, in my married life. I just left the food on the stove, in the original cooking containers, and served it up, or let the kids get their own food, buffet style. So, naturally, that's what we do now. Well, Dad still wants to "set the table". "No, Dad, the plates are here, just take the food and put it on your plates here." First night that works out all right. Mom puts the knives and forks on the table, with water. No problem. Dirk washes the dishes (he likes to!).
Saturday, it's just a bit less calm. Shoveling is now needed. It's very cold and very windy. Dad sounds like a broken record, "I wish I could help, I feel useless." Dirk shovels for hours to get to the garage, I do a piddley little bit, just to get away from the old people, and the continual lamentations. We get to the garage, it's dark. That, of course is where the snowblower is.
Dad cooks ziti for he and Mom, Dirk and I eat the delish leftover pork and potatoes and applesauce. In case you forgot, I wrote about my Dad's reluctance to eat leftovers (unless it's gravy and macaroni). We eat in shifts - waiting till the old folks are done. Dad continues his recording, adding to it, "You guys shouldn't be shoveling that, it's not good for you to do all that. I wish I could help, I feel useless." I can't help it either, I ask why he feels "hopeless", knowing he can't hear me...we chuckle.
Sunday is the big dig out day - over 30 degrees, sunny, and no wind! I come downstairs, ready to grab a quick bite to go and work. Dad is standing there, sweatshirt, sweatpants, and SLIPPERS. His face is red, with exertion. "Dad, WTF?" Dirk gives me the "we already talked about it" look and I back my raw anger. "I was out there trying to clear off your car, but it was too heavy." OK, now I have lots of energy to push out that snow! This is the Dad who had BACK SURGERY in September, with 4 months of physical therapy. Yeah.
Even the dog was happy to be out. Given the natural snow fence, he wasn't going anywhere, so Santana chilled with us. Shovel the snow down, snowblow it, repeat...for 7 hours. I had water in my jeep, so we didn't have to go in at all, which was a good thing. We just kept the rhythm going...
Dad, bored in the house, found it necessary to come outside, in his SLIPPERS, every few hours. We just ignored him. Mom, everytime I was near the porch, smiled and waved. She was the smarter person on Sunday, for sure. Miah came over later in the afternoon, and shortened up the work considerably. Dad kept asking when he was going to come by and plow. Dirk and I kept saying, "PLOW"????
There was no plowing to be done with six foot plus drifts. Where would the snow go, anyway?
Sunday night, after doing the full driveway, all 3 cars, and the public sidewalk, we come in, exhilaritingly exhausted. I still can't believe we cleared all of that! Of course, the old people are wondering what is for dinner.
Fortunately, I anticipated that, and already knew what I could throw together that would be ready in 45 minutes. Frozen chicken breasts, covered in Lite Ken's Steakhouse Italian Dressing (the BEST for cooking!), sliced up lemon, sprinkled bread crumbs over it all. Garlic bread from the freezer, can of corn. Dad wants to help. "I would have gotten this ready if you told me." um, no, but that's OK. "Cut that lemon up." "How?" What? Just freakin' cut it, I think. "Slices are good." "What size slices?"
This is why I just might not go to hell. I said, "Medium size is good." And that's what he did. Yes, we ate all together, repeating our pattern from Friday.
We did get out today, went to check on a relative, then for DD coffee. Dad wanted donuts. He had to trust us to get them. It was really bad out there, and we felt badly for adding to the craziness. We came home with our coffee and 4 bowties. DD had no donuts. Dad thought they should be sued for false advertising.
Yeah, we would like the snow in to end soon. That way Dad can go to the grocery store again.
Dad was already feeling housebound...Must've been because he left the front door open all night Thursday. He says on Friday morning, after I suggested he remember to close the doors when he leaves the house, then again when he comes home.
"It wasn't me", actually came out of his mouth. Well, Dad, now I'm not shoveling out the front of the house, so YOU will HAVE to use the back door. There will be no more discussion of this till spring (yeah, right!). Of course, we will have to get rid of those 6 foot drifts in order to get mail, so I'm just blowing smoke!
He did prepare, by doing yet another grocery trip on Thursday. But he bought soda...can't run out of Root Beer! and blueberry muffins! Meat, chicken, actual real food? No. Good thing I'm a New England girl...I bought the important stuff...potatoes to go with a long frozen pork loin...applesauce to make cake...kettlecorn...a box of Russell Stover's...Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Cake...Snapple!
Think about it - what did you all buy anyway? A blizzard is the perfect opportunity to clean out the freezer, and that's what we've been doing. Pork loin on Friday, leftovers on Saturday, Chicken last night, tonight was frozen hors d'oevres. I know Dad really wants to go to the grocery store.
Friday we pretty much just watched the snow, like everyone else. Dad, who couldn't remember what happened 35 years ago, just bemoaned the fact that it was a lot of snow, and gave us the temperature in Florida as he continued to call his neighbors and friends. Mom kept saying how pretty it all was...all day. I got tired of counting after I heard it 20 times. She walked over to the back picture window, stand there for a few minutes and say, "Oh, it's snowing? How pretty! What are the birds going to do?"
We all ate together at the table on Friday...when I grew up, we had to put the food in serving dishes and bring it to the table. We had a dishwasher. I haven't had a dishwasher, except for a year, in my married life. I just left the food on the stove, in the original cooking containers, and served it up, or let the kids get their own food, buffet style. So, naturally, that's what we do now. Well, Dad still wants to "set the table". "No, Dad, the plates are here, just take the food and put it on your plates here." First night that works out all right. Mom puts the knives and forks on the table, with water. No problem. Dirk washes the dishes (he likes to!).
Saturday, it's just a bit less calm. Shoveling is now needed. It's very cold and very windy. Dad sounds like a broken record, "I wish I could help, I feel useless." Dirk shovels for hours to get to the garage, I do a piddley little bit, just to get away from the old people, and the continual lamentations. We get to the garage, it's dark. That, of course is where the snowblower is.
Dad cooks ziti for he and Mom, Dirk and I eat the delish leftover pork and potatoes and applesauce. In case you forgot, I wrote about my Dad's reluctance to eat leftovers (unless it's gravy and macaroni). We eat in shifts - waiting till the old folks are done. Dad continues his recording, adding to it, "You guys shouldn't be shoveling that, it's not good for you to do all that. I wish I could help, I feel useless." I can't help it either, I ask why he feels "hopeless", knowing he can't hear me...we chuckle.
Sunday is the big dig out day - over 30 degrees, sunny, and no wind! I come downstairs, ready to grab a quick bite to go and work. Dad is standing there, sweatshirt, sweatpants, and SLIPPERS. His face is red, with exertion. "Dad, WTF?" Dirk gives me the "we already talked about it" look and I back my raw anger. "I was out there trying to clear off your car, but it was too heavy." OK, now I have lots of energy to push out that snow! This is the Dad who had BACK SURGERY in September, with 4 months of physical therapy. Yeah.
Even the dog was happy to be out. Given the natural snow fence, he wasn't going anywhere, so Santana chilled with us. Shovel the snow down, snowblow it, repeat...for 7 hours. I had water in my jeep, so we didn't have to go in at all, which was a good thing. We just kept the rhythm going...
Dad, bored in the house, found it necessary to come outside, in his SLIPPERS, every few hours. We just ignored him. Mom, everytime I was near the porch, smiled and waved. She was the smarter person on Sunday, for sure. Miah came over later in the afternoon, and shortened up the work considerably. Dad kept asking when he was going to come by and plow. Dirk and I kept saying, "PLOW"????
There was no plowing to be done with six foot plus drifts. Where would the snow go, anyway?
Sunday night, after doing the full driveway, all 3 cars, and the public sidewalk, we come in, exhilaritingly exhausted. I still can't believe we cleared all of that! Of course, the old people are wondering what is for dinner.
Fortunately, I anticipated that, and already knew what I could throw together that would be ready in 45 minutes. Frozen chicken breasts, covered in Lite Ken's Steakhouse Italian Dressing (the BEST for cooking!), sliced up lemon, sprinkled bread crumbs over it all. Garlic bread from the freezer, can of corn. Dad wants to help. "I would have gotten this ready if you told me." um, no, but that's OK. "Cut that lemon up." "How?" What? Just freakin' cut it, I think. "Slices are good." "What size slices?"
This is why I just might not go to hell. I said, "Medium size is good." And that's what he did. Yes, we ate all together, repeating our pattern from Friday.
We did get out today, went to check on a relative, then for DD coffee. Dad wanted donuts. He had to trust us to get them. It was really bad out there, and we felt badly for adding to the craziness. We came home with our coffee and 4 bowties. DD had no donuts. Dad thought they should be sued for false advertising.
Yeah, we would like the snow in to end soon. That way Dad can go to the grocery store again.
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