My Morning in Pictures

 I wondered to myself this morning, "Why should only my facebook friends have the pleasure of my obsession with this foolish snowmageddon when I can put my morning's pictures here and bore an wider audience?"  You're welcome.

Can it really be that I've had Zoet almost three years (Tom's been gone three years this week, as a matter of fact) and I've never had to dig a path for her to take care of business? I can now cross this off my bucket list.

Our morning routine today was anything but. This was the little path out the front door I had dug for her last night.

Okay.  So I opened the back door to this:

I use the word "open" loosely. Sweet baby Moses in a basket igloo. Then I remembered the french doors onto the deck.



















Like the good and responsible pet owner I am, I don't make my 15-pound, 8-inch-tall dog go out into the elements unaided, so I designed a little bathroom cave for her. But she's a smart little pistol and when I sent her out there she looked at me all "This is a setup right? No. Freaking. Way. When was the last time I didn't get yelled at for peeing on the deck?" Point taken.

Hands a'wringing, time was a'wasting. I've got this countdown clock that needs attention before, to put it delicately, Kaboom!

I go back to the back door, remove the storm windows and remove the screen and begin to dig out with one of the shovels I had wisely brought into the house before snowpocalypse began, and modeled a new little facility 12 inches outside my back door.

Crisis averted.

Now, obviously, I can't be won't be digging out of the house any time soon (although I do hear my overachiever neighbor's snowblower in the distance) so I can't show you a picture of the house. But see that yellow house on the left? Change that vinyl siding to natural cedar and you've pretty much got what my place looks like. That'll have to do for now.

We can all rest easy. The weatherman has clearly discovered the cure for New England's snowrectile dysfunction.