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Snowbank Sweet Snowbank.

Nothing strikes terror in one’s heart after a glorious weekend with your lover in New York than these two heinous words: “Welcome Home.”

I’ve often thought that there is just one good thing about living where we live and that’s the fact that it’s easier to go somewhere else. After a beautiful weekend in The Big Apple, we drove up our road to our driveway to find that we couldn’t find it. There was a wall of about 4 1/2 feet of snow where the driveway should have been. The only way I knew the location of the driveway was because the two five-foot high posts I had installed earlier this year had their very tops showing. So I did the sensible thing.

I tried to drive through the snow bank.

With the Malibu.

What an idiot.

Naturally I got far enough into the driveway that I was able to bury the front of the car and trap us inside because we couldn’t open the doors. Earl briefly yelled at me for putting on the brake as I tried to make the plunge, which invoked my super powers enough to be able to force the door open. I trudged up the driveway, which had almost a foot of snow in it, got myself in the garage and grabbed a shovel and trudged back. I then started digging the car out. Earl and I took turns digging and rocking the car. I finally got out the snowblower and was able to clean out around the car a little bit. Earl then pushed while I rocked and then we rolled.

An hour or so later the driveway was clean long enough for it to start snowing hard again. I don’t care what it looks like in the morning.

Our area has been on the national news quite a bit because of the weather. One thing they keep talking about is the community spirit where neighbor is helping neighbor with a glow usually found around a fireplace and several glasses of brandy. Not here. The neighbors watched from their snug little houses as Earl and I huffed and puffed to get the car out of the road (which was unsurprisingly busy with big SUVs being driven by women with big hair) and into the driveway. I no longer care if I have to fire up the snowblower at 4 a.m. Tomorrow morning as they look out the window I’ll just wave back.

“Spring Awakening”.




Rockefeller Center.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Tonight Earl and I went to the musical “Spring Awakening.” While we enjoyed last night’s show (“The Apple Tree”) very much, this show was much more powerful. From the stark staging and intriguing use of cast members to the music and the storyline, Earl and I both felt genuinely moved by this show.

“Spring Awakening” is set in a small provincial German town in 1890 and looks at a group of teenagers and their struggles with their growing interests with one another, including their budding sexuality. In many ways, this show is delightfully raw in it’s frankness. The music is truly inspiring having been written by Duncan Shiek.

Earl and I both thoroughly enjoyed the experience, but agreed that this is not “a family show”. We both highly recommend seeing it when you get the chance. At the bottom of this entry is a link to a video about the show.

After the show we went to Langan’s Bar and Restaurant just off of Times Square. Luckily, I budgeted calories for a late supper so I don’t feel one ounce of guilt.

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