What If Snow Is Just The Cocaine Of The Gods?

As you can probably tell from the title of this post, Modern Philosophers, my Post Traumatic Snow Disorder has been acting up again today.

Just look at this photo of me from this morning if you don’t believe me.

It’s been snowing since yesterday, so I needed to get back outside to deal with the giant piles of white stuff that could very well be the leftovers from a wild party the gods have been having.

I’ll check with Zeus on that the next time he comes to The House on the Hill.  I’ve never seen cocaine, aside from on TV and in movies, and I have no reason to believe that any of the gods snort the stuff.  But it’s an interesting theory.  Perhaps Maine is just a giant stash house.

I’ll check with Zeus, but for now, we’ll blame it on my severe case of PTSD.

Let me share how the world looks outside The House on the Hill today…

Welcome to The House on the Hill!  If you can navigate up that front walkway and actually find the porch steps buried under all that snow, there is a snow covered front porch just waiting for you!

This fence surrounds the yard on the side of The House on the Hill.  As you can see, it’s pretty much buried now because I’ve been piling the snow there when I clear the driveway.

There are several bushes under all that snow and I feel bad for them…well, not for Jeb.  He deserves it!

I’ve tried to keep a path cleared in the side yard for the oil delivery guy, and so that I could use the side door in case of an emergency.

I have not, however, shoveled by the back fence and the mud room entrance.  The snow is almost up to the door back there.

I had to trudge through that snow today to clear the back roof with the roof rake, and it well well above my knees.

What do you think the street value is of this enormous pile of snowcaine?

If you had to guess, which of the gods do you think snorts the stuff?

Here’s my shovel on a union mandated 15 minute break.

I totally support unions, Modern Philosophers, but in this instance, I was hoping my shovel would waive its break and just let me finish the job.  It was damn cold out there, and I had to jump around to keep warm while my shovel relaxed.

I am so glad I do not own two cars, Modern Philosophers.

I don’t know where I’d find the energy to clear the left side of the driveway, and I’m not sure where I’d put that snow.

You know, until the gods put it up their noses…

This is what happens to a handsome, charming Modern Philosopher after he’s spent far too much time out in the snow.

Post Traumatic Snow Disorder is real, Modern Philosophers!

And as Monty Python would say, “Now for something completely different…”

While I was outside shoveling away, Cali and Luna were curled up in my Jets jacket.

At least my Jets jacket is serving some purpose on Super Bowl Weekend!

Thanks for joining me on this tour around The House on the Hill.  Have a Super Saturday, stay warm, and see your doctor immediately if you have any questions about Post Traumatic Snow Disorder…