Blizzard is over! And the power stayed on!! Two things to be grateful for.

However, there’s still the matter of the driveway. We have a long, skinny, mini-hill of a driveway that is not passable until plowed or snowblowed. And shoveling anything more than a couple of inches off of it requires a level of fitness that I do not possess.

The plow guy came once yesterday but I’ve just learned that his plow broke, so I am trapped up here. My husband managed to get his car out this morning, but will never be able to get back up the driveway unless it gets plowed again.

This is an ongoing situation with this house that I had all but forgotten about, because we haven’t had this much snow in years.

So, I’m up here alone in my snowbound fortress, waiting for some man to save me. Either the plow guy (young and cute) or my husband (strong but bad knees) will have to rescue me. This situation always reminds me of Rapunzel.

If my hair was long enough, I could braid it into a rope and throw it down the driveway to my potential rescuer.

I know, I know. A real feminist would’ve learned to use a snowblower years ago and get herself out. Blame that one on my father. “Girls don’t blow snow.”