It snoo-snoowed (my baby-speak for snow).
So much so that I could not get off my driveway yesterday or today. No cars have driven down my road in 48 hours. The motorway I use to get to work was experiencing atrocious conditions.
So I have stayed in my PJ's and left the heating on for the duration.
The last time it snoo-snoowed was after his funeral, and before that, on the day that he had his stroke.
When I looked at the snow, I cried, really sobbed.
I said, "it's snoo-snoo-ing babe" and for the first time in my life I hated the snow.
Because he's not here.
Because it's not fun anymore.
Because I'm scared to drive in it, even when my road has been cleared.
Because I'd rather have been at work than taking a snow day.
I feel marooned psychologically.
I don't need to be marooned literally.