My poor Floridian husband. Before Thanksgiving, he spent an entire Saturday raking the leaves on our front and back lawns into neat little piles. Believe me when I say three large oaks spew a LOT of leaves.
When we returned from New Orleans, we learned that we had two days to get the leaves to the curb if we wanted them picked up via street vacuum rather than having to bag them (a concept I am not wholly familiar with, as they don't do that where I grew up, but hey, they compost what they collect, so yay environment!). So, on Tuesday, Mike spent most of the very cold afternoon raking his neat piles from the backyard into the front, then to the street. He couldn't get it all done that day, so he came home early from work on Wednesday to finish the job. When I arrived home from work last night, the yard was spit-spot, and all the leaves were piled in the street, in anticipation of the Dec. 5 visit from the leaf vacuum fairy.
Overnight, we had a visit from the snow fairy, which pretty much kicked the vacuum fairy's wimpy butt back to whatever county garage in which it normally resides. So at 6:30 this morning, Michael piled on clothes and went outside to shovel our walk and driveway. Anyone who knows Michael knows that 6:30 am is not his optimal time of day, and 6:30 am in the snow is a particularly loathesome thought for him.
Then we realized without a visit from the plow fairy (which, by the way, just finally came for the first time on our block as I was writing this, at 5:20 pm), we weren't going anywhere. So we stayed in and worked from home, and watched the snow pile up again. It doesn't look like he touched the walk or the driveway at all. And if we are going to go anywhere tomorrow, Mike will have to once again bundle up early in the AM to get our walk and driveway and sidewalk clear. And he'll do it, too.
I feel very blessed that Florida boy is braving all of this cold for me! It's just gotta be true love.