We are having some freakishly freaky snow here in Pleasant Grove. (So bad that this is my fourth weather-related post this season; see here and here and here.) It started on Monday around 1:30 p.m. (I know because I was at work and could see it through the ginormous windows of the store.) By 10:00 p.m. the newscast said Pleasant Grove was officially at 7"—that was on top of the 2 or 3" still there from the last storm.
It continued to snow through bedtime on Tuesday. I took that picture at 6:00 p.m.
Here's how bad it is: Megan tried to get to a dentist appointment Tuesday morning and slid into a snowbank in front of the house. It took her quite awhile to dig out. (She missed the appointment.) Then when she came home, we had to dig out the driveway so she could get in.
When Melanie came to pick up Baby Burrito, she slid into the same snowbank as she was leaving. It took four people and 30 minutes to get her out. (McKenna did fine when she picked up Baby Shrek, but she has one of those super-duper-I-can-drive-through-anything-neener-neener cars.)
There was so much snow, my dog couldn't do his business. I had to go out there and dig him a little tunnel so he could find grass.
DH couldn't get up the road to our house. He had to park down the street a ways. But he's determined. It took a couple of hours of intermittent attempts, but he finally made it to the driveway. He was quite proud of himself—especially when he noticed there were four cars who never made it up, and one of them was a police car. (All night long we had to listen to him brag about his Saturn and how it was better than a police cruiser.)
This morning doesn't look so bad. At least it's stopped snowing. Hopefully I can get out to work. But on the news? They said to expect 8 to 13" on Friday.
Remind me again why I live in Utah?
If you want to read something seriously funny about snow, GO HERE. (Really. Go check it out.) I just about died laughing.