It started snowing again early yesterday morning and isstill doing it at 10 a.m. today. At least it calmed down from the wind. Another eight inches of Ivory Snow flakes have covered my tracks in the drive from yesterday afternoon when I moved my little rental car out of the garage to the front off-street parking to keep from being permanently marooned in the house. Later, I traipsed across the street when I saw the snow plow moving around. Cute snow buster man Johannes agreed to do my drive again today and gave me his phone number so I could call whenever I need him. Those tracks were covered by the time he arrived this morning and scrapped off another layer of this dastardly stuff.
Testing the tiled front porch with one foot while hanging on to the wall, I quickly encountered something like jello on glass and gave up on the thought of sweeping snow away from the entrance. Wading through the piles from the garage to the bottom of the steps, I was able to shovel a little path from where Johannes left off to the brick stoop and clear the snow from the steps which are sort of a pebble aggregate surface not as slick as the tile. I cleared the porch as far as the broom could reach without me stepping off the aggregate. A treacherous patch of about three feet still sports a half inch of snow offering great risk to all who walk there. With my history of accidents over the last year, I refuse to venture on to it. I take a piece of cardboard and write in big letters "Geht nicht!! Glatt Eis! Vorsicht!!" and place it at the bottom of the steps. I have no more streusalz (combo of sand and salt for the sidewalks). Neither does Germany!
Upstairs, my balcony is a foot-deep drift created by a funnel cloud of wind and snow between two bordering roofs. It reaches all the way back to the deep-set wall of glass lining my upstairs hallway. I've never seen this happen. When the temperature finally gets above freezing, this melting knoll will drip into my art room below for a month unless I can somehow get it off. Under it lies another of the slippery white tile surfaces so I am not inclined to tackle it. Even the dreaded cleaning of my huge closet seems like a more attractive task.
Bill works in his house and I work in mine. We call each other to commiserate. About the safe room lock that won't lock until taken apart twice. About having no idea where the compiled folder of the tax papers I put aside for safe keeping actually is. About cabin fever. About eating the six leftover manicotti tubes for dinner last night with no stuffing in them just to get them gone. About being in withdrawal because I have totally run out of Pepsi.
We think we are being punished for leaving. Snow after snow complicates the moving process needed to get out of Germany. At our new home in Blacksburg, the flooring men can't get up the hill to our house to do the floor change we wanted done before we arrived. There is no escaping it.
No comments:
Post a Comment