I woke up Saturday morning to a blanket of snow covering the city. Make that a blanket, sheet and comforter. I was excited as I love a good storm, whether snow or rain. The snow plows will come later and clean it all up anyways, or so I thought.
I ventured out later in the afternoon to pick up the sitter so the wife and I could go out for a bite to eat. She lives next to my old house and I was surprised to see that they had plowed her street mere hours after the snowstorm. In my five years of living there, the streets were plowed once! Ok, maybe twice, but that’s it.
One the way home, we got stuck in the high snow that covered our main street. We were about a block from my house. It took 8 people and about 45 minutes to finally get us moving. Not too far away, I could see about 5 snowplows clearing snow just outside our neighborhood but not one errant plow wandered down our street accidentally. Just one pass would have gone a long way. I realize that they cannot attend to all the streets immediately after a snowfall but from my experience, their track record is dismal. It makes me wonder if my tax cheques are bouncing.
After dinner, Amie went to drive the babysitter home. “You don’t want to know what just happened.” She said as she walked in the door. I didn’t. While driving, she heard a loud pop. It was the windshield. Cracked from end to end.
Just another weekend. Sunday was great!