Snow sucks.  It really, really does.  Over the last week, we’ve had about 40 centimeters of the damn stuff and temperatures sometimes dropping to -25C.  That 25 degree BELOW zero. 

Since moving back to Canada, we’ve had two decent winters where it snowed and the temperatures did indeed drop, but this week has been terrible.  Definitely the worst winter so far.  And the irony is that, officially, winter hasn’t even begun.

How depressing.

Anyway, so we’ve shovelled the car out numerous times and I have even found myself stuck in a snow bank.  No, not in the car, but on foot.  I was trying to get to work this morning and was utterly dismayed to see that they had yet to clear the sidewalks. I trudged along in knee-deep snow (no easy feat), swearing under my breath, and couldn’t believe it when the sidewalk ended with the biggest, deepest and widest snowbank I’d ever seen.

What choice did I have?  I couldn’t turn around and head back.  I had to scale the snowbank.

But fresh snow is not ’scalable’, is it?  No, it’s soft and fluffy and ever so damn pretty.

I sunk in to my waist and had I not had two beautiful children awaiting my return in 4 hours, I may have given up right then and there.  My thighs had ceased complaining and were now completely numb and I’d swear that half the snowbank was in my boots.  My gloves were wet and I was exhausted.

But as I am indeed sitting here typing about all this, it must be obvious that I pushed on and finally emerged from the snowbank.  Yes, completely pissed off and swearing a bit more audibly now.

I spent my 4-hour shift with wet jeans and socks and was thrilled to see Hubby arrive to pick me up. 

My hero.