I went to take Brio out and saw that the snow plow has been by. There is a wall literally waist deep at the end of my walk. The area I had cleared for my husband to park in, which was just shovelled out last night, is thigh deep in snow. Whee!
And my husband just emailed from home saying the snowblower has died. To be fair, it was over 50 years old. but it could have picked a better time. Maybe it took one look at the weather and said, "That's it. I'm done."
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