Oops, Our Bad, We Meant To Say 'Feet'

So yesterday they called for about 2 inches of snow to fall here, our first snowfall of winter. Not unusual, as our first snowstorm tends to be pretty feeble, not really revving up for the good stuff until after the first of the year.

Yeah, I think they missed the mark a wee bit. After slogging through snow up to my knees, I found the street.

It's pretty, but we're thankful that we planned ahead anyway, what with lockdown and all, and don't have to go anywhere for the next few days.

But criminy, after snowing all night at a very energetic pace, IT SNOWED ALL DAY, too. It tried to eat my Plymouth. It's a convertible top, so I had to clear it off so the weight of it wouldn't tear the top. First having to shovel a path to the car, of course, ha ha.

 Yep, that's about 2 feet of snow.

But why stop with clearing access to one car, when you can do two? But surely the second one won't be as ba-- DAMMIT.

The kicker being, of course, that if you don't shovel your car out, you'll be rewarded with a Detroit iceberg the following morning that won't thaw out until the heat death of the universe takes pity on you.

At least the kid had fun making a snow angel, although once committed to it, she had a bit of trouble moving that much snow.

Needless to say, the chickens and the dogs are not happy with all that white stuff, and naturally blame us.