We're Not in Kansas Anymore...

...and we are certainly not in Arizona. That is the thought I was having this evening when driving home on what was a 2-hour commute. We only had two to four inches of snow, but it was accompanied by a bit of icy drizzle which made for a fun drive. As I looked out the window on the fourth floor of my office, we started out the last half of the work day like this:

This is a mild snapshot of what the weather can really do up here -- for example, on Monday we will be at a high of 9 degrees Fahrenheit and a wind chill of -20... MINUS twenty! How can they possibly expect me to wear "work" clothes ( I call them dress clothes) when it's that cold? I will be there, on time, in a snowmobile suit and a Cousin Eddie hat.

This is what my car looked like in the parking lot as I got ready to leave work, but not before I brushed it off--don't worry, I do remember some things about living up here!

Every day I have at least one thought about trading this big blue urban assault vehicle for something more economical, yet it's days like today that I realize that would take some convincing. Here's why: not only can I shove this baby into "4-D" or "4-L," it has all of the latest and greatest Toyota technology. Don't confuse that with the "technology" that is going on with the "car" they call a Prius. From the FJ Cruiser's perspective (see big blue beast above for example), the Prius is that cross-eyed, distant cousin that eats his own boogers and was conceived in misguided love by two closely related relatives. (Is "closely related relatives" redundant)?

As I crawled down the Beltline Highway going 25mph, I remembered that my license plate is an Arizona license. I got this image of all the little Subarus skating a wide berth around me afraid that I will make a false and typical, Southerner-move, which will result in them getting squashed and dragged to the next exit.  Oh, here comes a semi...moving on.

Before I leave you all for tonight I'd like to give a huge shout-out to the guys that plow County Highway B: stellar job gentlemen--phenomenal winter skills. They clear the road so completely of snow that it appears there's radiant heat flooring under there. (I put a hyperlink to "radiant heat flooring" for my friends who are standing in their living room wearing flip flops right now while reading this!).

To the guys who plow County Highway G: ummm, would you mind spending a day or so of orientation with the guys that plow County Highway B? I think they've got some tricks of the trade for you. Otherwise, you can just pick me and the urban assault vehicle out of the ditch right there before the very steep curve on the way to the tiny airport, hair care, and tire center. Huge thanks.

And, currently, there is another man in my life I am indebted to: Rich (Amanda's hubby), you are the hero over here at Homer Homestead, because if it wasn't for you we wouldn't even be leaving the driveway -- and there'd be no need to shout-out to cell-block B or G. Rich-- I see some steakhouse gift cards in your future.  You're not plowing for free!

View from the deck 12/5