Snow drifts up our stairs in our back yard...
...that after getting deployed yesterday afternoon at 4:30 pm with the American Red Cross,
...that after driving 45 minutes through the raging, howling winds of a white-out blizzard,
No, my photo's not blurry...
...that after setting up a warming shelter in a local community center for stranded highway motorists,
(like for this truck driver, who jack-knived in front of us....)
...that after registering said motorists and quickly cooking some delicious, hot pizza so they could eat,
...that after getting a call from Red Cross RE-assigning me to a different shelter (at 8:30 pm),
...that after driving 45 minutes AGAIN through the raging, howling winds of a white-out blizzard to the NEW shelter,
...that after shoveling mounds of drifting, blowing snow in the mind-numbing, frost-biting temperatures in the darkness of night so we could open the doors of the shelter...without a hat (ouch, said my ears),
...that after getting the new shelter ready for any new, potentially-stranded highway motorists,
...that after spending a restless night on an uncomfortable cot with a thin blanket to ward off the chill, of which there was plenty,
...that after shutting down the shelter at 6:30 a.m. this morning and heading home,
...that I am one pooped puppy.
Either getting old is not for the faint of heart...or blizzards can kick your butt.
This, I know.
But, I also know that, for all the chaos and misery they cause during their midst, blizzards most certainly leave beauty behind when the move out.