There's nothing to really recover from; we're just trying to get back into the swing of Normal Life after a rollicking holiday. Even though we planned and schemed to avoid weather events on the trip and on the way home, things got pretty Western between Up There and Down Here. We got caught between Winter Storm Frona on its way north, and whatever they're calling the polar express coming down from Canada; about half of our route was dry and under good weather, but one section of highway in Wyoming was a skating rink and the last hundred miles before the end of the journey were accomplished through a near white-out. By the time we got to Smack in the Middle, I could barely see the road and only through paying unwavering attention found the offramp leading to Home. The weather warnings had predicted that blowing snow presented the most difficulty and "less than one inch" was expected, but at least twice that had already fallen and the streets were an icy mess.
Once home, the Emperor got into the house and opened the garage door so that I could get the snow shovel. I shoveled considerably more than "less than an inch" out of the way so that we could get our things out of the car and into the house through the garage, the Emperor ferrying things from the garage to the house while I remained in the storm. I didn't want his cold to get worse, and I was already snowy and wet. Anyway, when I finally could come inside, I was a walking icicle.
There is something about our house's location -- it collects snow. Our yard is the most deeply buried of anybody's nearby, and the street right in front always has the most snow and ice on it when there is white stuff to be had here. As soon as I'm finished with this little update, I'm going to coat and glove up and go out and buy a snowblower. I've got one all picked out and if they haven't sold it already, I'm bringing it home. The Emperor is going to fill it with gasoline, and we're going to fire it up and clear off the rest of the driveway.
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