.floatimg-left-hort { float:left; } .floatimg-left-caption-hort { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:300px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatimg-left-vert { float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-right:15px; width:200px;} .floatimg-left-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; font-size: 12px; width:200px;} .floatimg-right-hort { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px;} .floatimg-right-caption-hort { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px; font-size: 12px; } .floatimg-right-vert { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px;} .floatimg-right-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; font-size: 12px; } .floatimgright-sidebar { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; border-top-style: double; border-top-color: black; border-bottom-style: double; border-bottom-color: black;} .floatimgright-sidebar p { line-height: 115%; text-indent: 10px; } .floatimgright-sidebar h4 { font-variant:small-caps; } .pullquote { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 150px; background: url(http://www.dmbusinessdaily.com/DAILY/editorial/extras/closequote.gif) no-repeat bottom right !important ; line-height: 150%; font-size: 125%; border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} .floatvidleft { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatvidright { float:right; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;}
Sunday – It’s snowing again. No one mentions it, because we have covered the family room windows with posters of Aruba and also imposed a rule forbidding anyone to say, “It’s snowing again.” I walk outside for firewood and start thinking about how much fun it would be to take up cross-country skiing. Then I slip on the ice and ricochet off a skinny deer that’s gnawing the last vestiges of our shrubbery. I start thinking about how much fun it would be to watch television.

Monday – Another workweek begins, and the TV weather forecaster good-naturedly suggests that we might as well hope for a record amount of snowfall for the season, since we’ve come this far. Tomorrow, the forecaster will wake up screaming when he finds the severed head of a snowman in his bed.

Tuesday – Battling whiteout conditions on the drive home, I lose my way; my four-wheel-drive pickup winds up in my neighbor’s living room. We watch “Wheel of Fortune” for a while, but I can tell he wants to patch the hole I punched through his wall, because the drifts are making it hard to find the remote. I back out and make another attempt to reach home. An hour later, I crash through the same spot, and now there’s a documentary on about the sinking of the Titanic in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic Ocean. It doesn’t look so bad.

Wednesday – It’s heartbreaking to see birds perched miserably in the subzero wind chill, and I dash out to fill the feeder. Suddenly, everything goes black, and when I come to, the plastic bag is shredded and the birdseed is gone. I stagger back into the house through the open door, only to find juncos tearing open bags of microwave popcorn, bluejays gobbling Froot Loops and several crows trying to whip up some kind of flour-based entree on the stove. I make a helpful comment about paprika, but they’re in no mood for advice.

Thursday – We attach a small V-shaped blade to our border collie, and we’re rewarded with clean sidewalks, plus a random series of paths all over the lawn. A parcel service truck slides to a stop in the driveway, the driver glassy-eyed and trembling after another day of death-defying deliveries. He instinctively starts to carry our package along the nearest path, where the walking is easy. Later we notice that he is helping our dog corner a squirrel. When the two of them come in to get warm and curl up together on the carpet, our package is nowhere to be seen. “Bad deliveryman,” we say sternly. “Bad deliveryman.”

Friday – The drifts are quite beautiful, sculpted into otherworldly curves and sinuous lines. I point this out to my wife, but she fails to appreciate the loveliness of it all. Possibly because she’s trapped inside her minivan under one of those drifts, and we’re talking by cell phone. I promise to find a way to get her out, although I don’t make it a deadline kind of thing. I do shovel in front of the garage again, but it’s hard to find a place to pile any more snow. I start rolling a snowball, and when it’s big enough, it rumbles down the driveway, turns left and heads east. Later I learn that the town of Baxter has vanished.

Saturday – As I try to break up an ice dam with a hammer and chisel, the ladder settles sideways into the snow and falls, leaving me hanging from the eavestrough. The family eventually notices and takes me down, but they get distracted by hot chocolate and absent-mindedly store me in the attic with the Christmas lights. It’s chilly and dark – but there’s no snow to deal with. No ice, either. A peaceful feeling comes over me. I settle in to leaf through old income tax returns and wait for spring.