In Portland, any time it snows the city is sent into a panic and basically shuts down. We get so little snow during the course of the year that we don't have the huge fleets of equipment to clear and sand (we don't use salt on our roads). Frankly, the snow doesn't usually last long enough for that type of Herculean effort to be necessary.
So what we do is run away from work, jam the streets like a frozen parking lot and spin tires. Since I have been working (and I use the term lightly at this time of year) from home. I didn't have any place to drive to or from. I put a jacket on my big headed dog, grabbed my son and went for a walk through the falling snow. It was wonderful. Played like a kid one eighth my age (yes, I'm that old).
Mrs. Monkey Man, however, wasn't that lucky. While she only works three miles from home, traffic was a bitch and after for 45 minutes and progressing a mere mile and a half, parked her car and walked the rest of the way.
I met her halfway with a heavier coat and a warm hand to hold. Our walk home was delightful. There is a walking path in a green space near our neighborhood that was a winter wonderland. Snow still falling and creaking under our feet as we walked. It was peaceful and romantic. The stillness and quiet that comes with snow enhanced the whole experience.
Even though it was almost six o'clock in the evening when we got home, it was as bright as midday outside. It was quite surreal. We were greeted by a snowman at the bottom of our driveway that had been built by the neighbor kids. Check it out.
This morning the snowman is toppled and the snow is mainly slush, but I have a white birthday and that's pretty cool.