Luckily, we had enough food in this gluttenous house to last us about 6 months (egad), so we hunkered down to wait it out. Our favorite neighbor Ben made his way through our pasture's waist-deep snow to come and hang out (now that's commitment - I couldn't even see our pasture right then), and the video games were a'buzz, the books a'strewn, and the board games a'... a'... um... the board games were a'played. Oh, and the fire was a'blaze.
But then, right in the middle of the storm, with the weatherpeople still warning we'd get at least seven more inches, I turned to see Rob bundling up in his snow gear. Turns out, this city-boy-turned-country-boy loves an excuse to drive our farm tractor.
And, if he waits too long, my brother-in-law Marcel will beat him to it...
and Rob will have to sit and fidget and watch out the window while Marcel plows our driveway.
I'd like to think it's some sort of manly-man code that says a man can't stand to let another man do his work for him.
It's all about driving a big-boy toy.
A smile that says, "Nah nah Marcel! Beat ya!"