Like, A LOT of snow.

All week the news was reporting that we'd broken the all-time state record for snowfall. But they finally reported the official results and we missed it by an inch. Frankly, I'm ok with it.

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That was around 8am Wednesday morning. It continued to snow till around noon. The final, official measurement for NWA was 24"!

The pictures don't even do it justice. It was more snow than I remember seeing in my life.

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All three of us headed out to shovel the driveway, which was a MUCH bigger chore this time around. But Colt was not deterred. In fact, about halfway through he decided he'd had enough of the small potatoes– he wanted some of the real snow shovel action. The days of convincing him his broom is really a snow shovel? Over. We've been doing a lot of talking about taking turns and saying please so we heard "Colt's turn! Colt's turn!" and "Peece! Peece!" for about an hour.

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20ish inches of snow times the 600ish square feet of our driveway. The math makes my toes feel cold. And my back hurts just looking at these photos. (Says the girl who took photos instead of helping shovel the driveway.)

And it was finally his turn.

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Not as much fun as it looks, huh?

We had our fair share of fun in the snow. We shoveled. We walked. We marveled.

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But then. The unthinkable.

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After the last few snowfalls, we began to suspect foul play (of sorts) in our neighborhood. It was hard not to notice that our street seemed to thaw and clear more quickly than anything else in the neighborhood. And we're a dinky, little, residential cul-de-sac. Why would the city plow our street?


If you're viewing this post via email or a reader, please click on through to enjoy the video.

As we watched three snowplows storm our street — two headed down to the cul-de-sac while one drove right up into the driveway of a house a few doors down. The driver got out and met a girl at the door with a bag of McDonald's and a kiss. It all started to make sense. Yah Mr. Snowplow Driver who lives on our street!

***

Cabin Fever is a very real and dangerous thing. Let's just say that. The snow fell Wednesday morning and we didn't go anywhere until Friday. I hadn't been to work in more than two days so I headed to my office to get some things done.

As I cautiously made my way through Johnson, I looked up to see a squirrelly little man flailing around in the middle of the road. He was frantically motioning for me to stop while madly pointing at what I assumed was his car firmly in the ditch on the opposite side of the road. I honked. He continued to flail. I knew I couldn't stop, so it was either manslaughter – or this…

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Ugh.

Again, pictures don't really do it justice. And pictures can't truly convey the spectacle that we created in downtown Johnson by clogging this already-narrow road. If you look carefully you can see the line of cars backed up – waiting to drive on what was now a one-lane road.

My freakshow friend that caused this mess was very apologetic and offered to help get me out of the ditch.

"My daughter is comin'. She has some rope!"

Great.

I have no idea how I managed to forget snapping a photo of this guy. But picture a skinny, greasy Santa Claus. Now picture him flailing around in the middle of the road. There ya go.

Jeff and our friend Bill showed up to help and they pushed the car for what seemed like MILES – photo below/left. But no dice. Eventually, a cop stopped and called a tow truck for me. And my original "friend" offered to pay. We'd heard reports on the news of tow trucks charging upwards of $200 to pull morons like me out of the ditch, but this guy – who, incidentally, climbed out of his truck wearing grease-covered Carhartts and carrying a little black poodle under his arm — only charged us 30 bucks.  

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Two hours and thirty dollars later — I was back on the road! And officially DONE with the snow.

***

I sincerely hope these are the last snow photos I have the privilege to share this winter. Is that so wrong?

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