I didn't even know they had third degree emergency warnings for snow. I mean, I'm well familiar with smog alerts of the 15th degree, being a veteran San Fernando Valley, Californian and all. But snow? They give tickets for driving (or if the police smile and let you by, they write really nasty notes and stick them under your windshield wipers if you happen to "slide" off the road...) And then they fine you the big bucks.
So we aren't allowed to drive. Ha! Fat chance. Can't get out of the driveway. We've got at least 20 inches with a nice crisp crust that poor Rocky falls through each time he tries to chase a bird or pee. Noah's car (which is really his dad's old car) is wedged under a drift that rides all the way up the front tires.
We watched a car try to back its way up the hill since it had rear-wheel drive. A poor younger fellow was conscripted to dig out the tires the whole way while the driving dude kept gunning it to the floor (and only moving inches at a time). Said conscripted fellow had to jog and sink, jog and sink to keep up with the squealing, spinning tires in motion.
We still owe Jacob twenty bucks for all the shovelling he did last night (for which all evidence is gone).
I love snow.
P.S. The birds are so happy. No squirrels! We had a total of six finches on the feeders (three gold in olive winter drab and three house - two red-breasts).