Letters to Holly

Monday, December 27


The good news is that the deputy got a white Christmas. The bad news is that so did all of the eastern half of the country.

My vacation started Friday, and the boy and I spent much time together as Your Sister visited old friends and attended an evening church service. All was clear. Then we woke up Saturday to a snow that never ended.

We lost satellite service around noon. Your Sister and I have passively established a morning schedule with him: she sleeps in, and I mind him until about noon, depending on how she wants to feed him. While we have plenty of frozen milk, she may have jury duty next week, and we'll need that to feed him. She also has a cold that's reduced her milk flow, leaving not much to pump and store. For now, he drinks straight from the tap.

After she awoke and I handed him over, I gussied up to climb the roof and clear the dish. I always forget how far it is from the roof edge, and my plan to jostle the dish with a broom was chucked as soon as I saw there was no way to reach the dish from the ladder. I stood on that ladder a good three minutes debating the intelligence of following through. I decided that a fall from that height onto that much snow would probably be somewhat better than landing on the ground. And with that slight comfort, I decided to try it.

Up I went, and the wenting went well at first. I dusted off the dish, and eased my way down, and it was within five feet of the ladder that I started sliding toward the gutter. I was only stopped by the mound of snow my sliding created between me and the ladder. I realized I had positioned myself on one leg, instead of keeping both shoes on the shingles. Once I got back to one flat sole and at least one toe section, I could control my movements to the ladder and gently gently gently reach my legs over to stand on it. We stayed in the rest of the day. We did Christmas in the afternoon once the sidekick was settled, and it went well. Your Sister made a new lamb recipe that was astounding, and we cut into our holiday red velvet cake.

On Sunday, I attacked the driveway, for, I think, the fifth time this year. Unlike the previous storms, this was mostly snow, and it was an easier row to hoe. I could work the shovel like a gliding plow instead of digging, lifting, carrying, and dumping it. That Girltalk album got me through it, and I again thank ye kindly. The new neighbor walked over with a beer as a way of introduction, and I told him I'd hold off until I finished the drive. He told me he was trying to dig his driveway clear so his parents could get back to Myrtle Beach. When I finished ours, I walked over to help him clear his, but he had finished already. Instead, we talked families and weather. I gave him some bags of cocoa Your Sister made before getting back inside to thaw.

We had to rescheduled today's doctor appointment for the boy, and we're aiming for Thursday. We have no idea what the weather will do for our Wednesday and Thursday plans. I've already bumped back a photo session with a high-school buddy for Thursday. It depends on how warm the air gets, and what kind of snowplow traffic we get in the next two days.

Picture of the Day
We may use these hobo signs if we try to walk into town.Before the boy came along we would trudge through the white junk to the local Italian spot. Now, we'll have to drive there if we can go at all.

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