In Chicago, we have had snow every day this week. Yeah, it’s only Wednesday – but it is forecast for the rest of the week.
Before the Super Bowl, there were three offers of shoveling, while the snow continued to fall. During the Super Bowl, when the snow had stopped, no such offers. We get it. Everyone was hunkered down, watching the game. As we had no visitors, it was not a problem.
Monday early, a very nice guy came and knocked on the door. He had his own shovel and was asking a reasonable price. He did a good job. My husband told him, come back when then snow falls.
Monday night, there was more snow. Tuesday morning, early again, he rang the doorbell. Yippie, another good job. My bad back was very happy he returned.
Last night, the snow started after the 10 o’clock news. I blogged about it before I went to bed. Snow was on my mind, but I didn’t dream about it. I dreamed about farms and harvests and pumpkins.
This morning, I was still sleep when the bell rang. In my semi-conscious state, I knew it was the Snowman. In my mind, I saw him looking like the Michelin Man, brandishing a shovel. I need a cup of coffee.