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Mush you huskies -- mush!
No, I don't have sled dogs, but that would certainly make it easier to get around Minneapolis today. So would snow shoes, which I also don't have. Right now we're in the midst of what is, if not an actual blizzard, pretty close to it. And about half an hour ago I decided to venture out into it on foot in order to pick up a package of ours that was delivered to the wrong house about three blocks away.
Now, I knew driving there would be foolish (I'd already gotten the care stuck about twelve times just moving it from one side of the street to the other so the plows could get through), but I thought walking three blocks would be a cinch. And it kind of was, at least until I hit the snow drifts that came up over my knees. And when I walked back with the snow and wind in my face that truly was close to blinding. But, man, was it fun!
Yes, there were the five cars I passed that were stuck in the street (one of which I helped push. Three of the others already had helpers and the fourth was just left abandoned -- still is, as a matter of fact, just in front of our house), and the snow was cold and it took a while to get to where I was going, but at the same time it felt like I was an arctic explorer or some prospector in the Yukon, tramping through the snow piles and making sure I didn't lose my way. The snow is falling fast, and the wind is whipping it everywhere in huge clouds of white fury. The sidewalks were nearly unnavigable -- even the ones that had been shoveled earlier in the day -- so I had to walk down the car tracks in the street, leaving them only to walk around the cars that were stuck. Those of us who were out all had huge stupid grins on our faces as we braved the elements, thrilled at the sheer joy of being alive and out in the world.
Back home, in the warmth, I looking at our backyard and at the snow still falling and the piles and mounds and drifts growing steadily throughout the day. Here and there little eddies of snowflakes swirl viciously through the air like whirling dervishes and occasionally sheets of white nearly obscure my view out the window entirely. The storm is beautiful out there, in all its chaotic fury. Watching it, at times it feels like it's picking up my very soul and lifting it to the sky and heavens, twirling it through the firmament like a bird dancing through thermals in the air.
Now, I knew driving there would be foolish (I'd already gotten the care stuck about twelve times just moving it from one side of the street to the other so the plows could get through), but I thought walking three blocks would be a cinch. And it kind of was, at least until I hit the snow drifts that came up over my knees. And when I walked back with the snow and wind in my face that truly was close to blinding. But, man, was it fun!
Yes, there were the five cars I passed that were stuck in the street (one of which I helped push. Three of the others already had helpers and the fourth was just left abandoned -- still is, as a matter of fact, just in front of our house), and the snow was cold and it took a while to get to where I was going, but at the same time it felt like I was an arctic explorer or some prospector in the Yukon, tramping through the snow piles and making sure I didn't lose my way. The snow is falling fast, and the wind is whipping it everywhere in huge clouds of white fury. The sidewalks were nearly unnavigable -- even the ones that had been shoveled earlier in the day -- so I had to walk down the car tracks in the street, leaving them only to walk around the cars that were stuck. Those of us who were out all had huge stupid grins on our faces as we braved the elements, thrilled at the sheer joy of being alive and out in the world.
Back home, in the warmth, I looking at our backyard and at the snow still falling and the piles and mounds and drifts growing steadily throughout the day. Here and there little eddies of snowflakes swirl viciously through the air like whirling dervishes and occasionally sheets of white nearly obscure my view out the window entirely. The storm is beautiful out there, in all its chaotic fury. Watching it, at times it feels like it's picking up my very soul and lifting it to the sky and heavens, twirling it through the firmament like a bird dancing through thermals in the air.
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(What I really don't understand is why anyone would put up with a husky UNLESS they're running a dog team. They're huge, they howl when they hear sirens, they eat like a teenage boy, they blow their coats in the spring, and it's almost impossible to train them not to jump on people. I do LIKE huskies, mind you, but I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to ever OWN a husky.)
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There was a pause, and the FIL said, thoughtfully, "Maybe that's how it happens for some people, but I KNEW when I got my first husky that I was starting my sled dog team. Of course, that's not what I told Caroline [MIL]..."
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