|Drift outside our side deck, 27 January 2015|
Just the Snowplow?
Where I grew up in Cranston, RI, we had a few years of snow much like what fell here yesterday. One day, while I was in high school, my mother, who did not sleep well and was hard to wake up in the morning, came into the kitchen at breakfast where my father and I were eating our cereal and juice.
He put on the coffee and she sat down sleepily and said, "I had a tough night. I thought it couldn't be a dream because it was so loud. I sat up in bed trying to hear the noise on the street outside. Suddenly, I realized it was just the snowplow and I laid down and went back to sleep."
It was July.
We never let her forget it.