Tag: snow

The snow has piled up outside — so much so, in fact, that the dogs are having great difficulty navigating their way around the yard.

My brother, who lives less than a half mile away, was trapped here last night, creating an impromptu sleepover (my brother’s three kids, my sister’s three, six adults, two dogs) and a lot of activity in the morning. Mark finally made it out of the driveway and home to take care of his dog (and get my nephew’s DS charger) and my brother-in-law is outside with the snow shovel as I sit at this computer getting ready to launch another Patch site (lawrenceville.patch.com).

I can see through the window the wind blowing snow from the roof and I’m hoping the weathermen are right about the rest of the week — sun and rising temperatures. I don’t know why I haven’t fled south to avoid this stuff.

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The dogs, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it — and now they are sacked out. We didn’t get too many pictures of them, but we’ll try later, when we get brave again.

• Send me an e-mail.
• Read poetry at The Subterranean.
• Suburban Pastoral, a chapbook by Hank Kalet, available here.

I’m standing in my kitchen at the moment, typing on the laptop and sipping at some coffee, snow falling outside, the powder coming down faster and heavier than anything else we’ve seen this season.

Outside the window, the patio table has about 3 inches on it, the patio covered. Out front, the driveway is coated and the car and the newspaper in its yellow bag at the end of the driveway is barely visible.

I hate this stuff — still have to get the shovels out and clear the driveway so I can get out and head to a morning meeting and then to the office.

Mostly, this is just a hassle, the shoveling, clearing the car (see above, the Murano at about 8 a.m. today), the general stupidity of most drivers.

The dog, however, likes nothing more than to play in the snow. I can’t go out to shovel and leave her in the house — she cries and spins around and generally bugs Annie. Usually, Annie will help me shovel and Honey will run around the yard, finding a buried tennis ball and make us stop what we’re doing to throw it for her.

It keeps it light and keeps me from complaining about shoveling too much. I complain, but then the dog makes me laugh.

I’d move someplace warm, but I like New Jersey and the dog would never forgive us.

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