I shoveled the front back and side before I could relax and have my morning coffee. I had to know we could get out safely and easily. It's a thing with me. I have a fear of being trapped. The snow was fluffy so it was an easy job. I even swept off the car and shoveled a loop in the yard for my dog, Lily so she could run laps. In Rhode Island the snow becomes wet and heavy and then freezes into what I call arctic lava. "Maybe I have post traumatic snow disorder," I said to my husband. "No, you just don't trust the universe."
"True," I said, "But I do sometimes."
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