When I heard the rumble of the snow plow once, twice then three times before dawn, I knew it was going to look like the backdoor of a musty British wardrobe when I woke up.
Sure enough, it's a wonderland out there today. A frikkin winter wonderland.
So you know what I did? I put on my down coat and my Merrell mocs (more traction than bone-breaking, fleecy Land's End snowboots*) and I went out and kicked the driveway's snowy ass.
And thanks to all your helpful advice, I am stocking up on all the things I'll need to get through the winter.
*And I'm sending those nice folks at Land's End a photo of the bruise on my keester that is the color of grape jelly, the size of an orange and the shape of a broken coccyx. I don't care if they do sponsor a Prairie Home Companion. I would post a photo of my injury, but my Hot Shot Husband doesn't like me to put those kinds of photos online. For free.
Instead, here's the driveway's ass. Look how pale and frightened it looks.
Merrell Mocs and some stable-icers are all I wear all winter. You don't need no stinkin' snow boots.
And in fact that driveway's ass looks awfully scared.
Posted by: ppb | Friday, 19 January 2007 at 08:01 PM