Shoveling snow: Mrs. Dykowski and the great big drift

Dear readers,

Most of you know by now that my journeys in the great white north are a learning experience in more ways than one.

As I type, we're experiencing our first blizzard.

In Texas of course a "blizzard" (I've only seen one that might have been called a blizzard in all my years as a Texan, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't actually count.) means everyone stays home except those people who are absolutely needed for society to function.

That group never included me.

In North Dakota, if you want a snow day, you have to take PTO, and that's not an option for me if I want to go back to Texas without quitting my job. This all leads to one harsh reality of life: driving slow and shoveling snow.

Before today, I thought shoveling snow was fun, I have a pretty red snow shovel, and the snow is glittery and light. You feel so accomplished when you're done shoveling, because the area you cleared is smooth and nice and there's a pile of unwanted snow out of the way that you can look at and say 'I did that!'

Tonight, all of that changed.

Tonight, I drove across town in some crazy snow to get home from work. Luckily most of the roads are well traveled, so it wasn't so bad until I got to the street I live on, which was white, no visible stripes or curb, but I navigated that okay for the 3 blocks to my apartment. Then I turned into the driveway to our garages and my tires started spinning.

On the farm where I grew up, I was notorious for getting trucks stuck in sand in the turn row, so I know a couple of tricks for getting out... (One of them is call dad, but that one doesn't work here.) And snow is different, so I just put the car in park and walked around it to see what the issue was.

There was so discernible issue, so I backed up about a foot and pressed onward, slowly. Finally with two left turns a few hasty prayers, I made it to the row garages to find a great big drift piled in front of the garage door.

Bummer.

I never thought I'd have to dig my way into somewhere. But that's just what I did. I had to take a brief intermission to move my car our of a guy's way in the meantime.

Half an hour later I made it into the garage, finished up shoveling in front of Scott's garage, looked at the mountain I built on the other side and waded to the door.

I say waded because leading up to the door the snow came up to my mid-calf or higher. Thank heaven for tall Northface boots. At first, I wasn't sure the door would open but luckily a strong neighbor had pushed it open just a few minutes before I came in, clearing a path.

Whoa y'all that was some snow! And I'm pretty sure I'll see worse before it's all said and done...

As the North Dakotans say, "yooo betcha!"

The view from our apartment last night.

The view from our apartment tonight.