“Hey, aren’t you suppose to be in Argentina?” my neighbor called across the street as I stood in the blanketing snow leaning on my shovel.
“Yup. I had to re-schedule my flight.”
“Yikes,” she said, Will it be OK? “
Instead of slipping my freshly painted red toes into cute leather sandals and standing on the deck of a ship with the warm summer breezes lifting my hair; I pulled over them knee-high rubber-bottomed snow boots and I went out to shovel 6 inches of snow.
I am so colossally disappointed that all I can do is pace around my house. Instead of flying out today, I am forced to fly tomorrow. I called and had my flight re-scheduled and the cruise line notified that I would be late arriving. It is all I can do but it is cutting it too close for my comfort. I will worry until I am on board.
To make matters worse, I will not be able to see anything in Buenos Aires, birdlife or otherwise.
Why, oh why, did it need to snow on the one day when I needed to be elsewhere? We have had a lot of ice but it has not snowed much on the mountain this year. Normally I would slide off the mountain and go about my business. It rarely snows further south. Today the entire state got hammered.