Subaru redux

We made it up to the cabin this weekend right as the storm of the century was ending. It has actually been snowing all weekend so technically it hasn't ended. When we arrived at our house there was a four foot wall of snow blocking the driveway. Not the light pffftt snow as the Inuit would call it, but the hard packed wet oofah type. I am of course making up the Inuit names but they do have something like forty names for the various conditions. Luckily our neighbor had hired a snowplow and his driveway was clear so we parked there for the night. We dug a one shovel width path to our door and still had a foot of snow till earth.

Luckily our electric was still working when we got there so we were quite cozy for the night, that is until 3:30 AM when the power when out. I am nothing if not prepared and therefore had stocked the cabin with all the necessary camping gear to survive the pending nuclear winter. After a hearty breakfast of steel cut oats (they do taste better) made on the Coleman stove, we commenced the digging out of a parking spot for the Subaru. I do not think I would want any other car in this weather, except maybe a Humvee (with mounted 30 mm machine gun to protect the cabin from marauders during the aforementioned nuclear winter). A spot barely wide enough for me to open the driver side door twelve inches and squeeze out, and long enough so the plow wouldn't nick the rear bumper took us a good part of the morning to dig.

This topic is even boring me so I will end the post now. Everyone got crazy snow anyway so there are probably hundreds of thousands of online posts about it. This is exactly why I hate blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc. Why don't we all go back to writing private diaries in little leather notebooks, like Anne Frank? If anybody really has any thing profound to say then it will be discovered when our heirs are cleaning out all the meaningless crap we have accumulated over the course of a lifetime. And as is only fitting, our thoughts can be published posthumously. Do you own a little leather notebook? They make a great gift, survive the worst of conditions (ask Meriweather Lewis), and project an air of gravitas. They also feel and smell good. Try caressing a Kindle.
Okay, now I am done.