Blizzards* here are pretty unusual, happening maybe once or twice in a decade. This weekend we received more snow than we got all of last year, perhaps the last two years.
*We call getting over a foot of snow a blizzard down here. Most of you probably call it "Thursday".
Friday night it began snowing. Jen had, fortunately, braved the grocery store earlier that day, and we were well stocked for a weekend at home. The supermarkets here become hotbeds of frenzied activity whenever the merest threat of snow is mentioned.
The next day we found ourselves literally snowed in.
Jen weathered the enforced isolation as best she could. It was touch and go for a bit.
Our two cats were of different minds regarding the snow. Collette, the older cat, was not impressed.
Posey, our more outdoorsy cat, however, did her best to get out and play.
The snow did get too deep for them, and Jen inculcated me to the great Canadian tradition of shoveling snow. Here we are ready to wage a futile battle against the building white stuff.
We also had to cater to the needs of our fine feathered friends. I had to re-fill the bird feeder three times that day. Hordes of grackles, wrens, sparrows, blue jays, cardinals, and even about 20 crows spent time eating in our back yard, much to the consternation of our cats.
By Sunday, the snow had stopped, and people were beginning to dig themselves out. We might as well, sometime.
