I've lived my entire life in Utah. Snow doesn't really bother me. I'm not a huge fan of driving in the snow, but I actually enjoy shoveling snow, watching snow fall (especially with a hot chocolate in hand), and I don't even mind being outside and freezing a bit...for a few minutes at least.
There have been major snow storms during my life, but only a few snow days. I could probably count them on one hand.
The first winter I was married, Ross and I traveled to Arizona for Christmas. Talk about opposites in weather, right? I've been covered in snow every winter of my life and spent my first married Christmas in 60 degree weather, watching Arizonians cover themselves in sweaters and jackets and coats because they were cold.
That winter there was a huge storm right around the big holiday. Trees broke, power was out for days in some spots, and mother nature really dumped on the valley. Our big car was parked at my parents house and they took care of it. By the time we got to my parents from the airport we could see some of the damage from the snow, but really didn't have a full grasp on the storm until we got home.
We lived at the University of Utah in student housing. We had a great ground floor, three bedroom, two bathroom student apartment that had been part of the athlete village during the winter Olympics. We were right up on the hill. Literally, on the hill.
As we pulled into the parking lot it was quite obvious that there weren't any real spots to park in. A plow had sort of been through the lot and any car that was in a stall just got buried. My little VW Golf was included in that mess. Ross and I drove through the parking lot three or four times, not looking for a parking space, but looking for my itty bitty car. It was literally buried in the snow.
I think after a few minutes of circling we gave up. We knew it was there, and we'd find it later.
The next morning I found my car. It was going to take a crew of shovels and a whole lot of sweat to get it out. I called in the cavalry - Mom, Haley, and Willie - to help me out. They showed up with shovels and we set to digging. It took the four of us quite a while to get that little car uncovered let alone dug out enough that we could actually open the door, start her up, and get her moving.
For a lot of people, that probably sounds like a grueling situation - digging out a buried car. I'm pretty sure that was one of the most fun things I've ever done.
We probably went to the training table after for some fries and cokes. That's always fun, too.
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