LINGUISTICS & CULTURE
|Data:||07/SET/2012 12:12 AM|
I am almost died laughing watching the video clip! Hilarious! But...true.
In the San Bernardino mountains of California, I could not park at my house when it snowed. If I did, I could not get to the highway for days. And the snowplow only came down my road when the weather got better. Who needs a snowplow when the weather gets better?!?!?! So I always tried to park above me on a road that more or less level, was plowed every day or two, and could take me to a highway. I often took groceries from the vehicle to the house on a sled.
One winter I dug out a place for my car on the road above me. Almost the second the work was done, a snowplow appeared and filled in the hole again.
One of the first things I heard in the mountains was a man telling a friend. "I can always tell if someone is new to the mountains. He still thinks the snow is pretty." That sounded very negative to me. However, after years of shoveling snow, I began to agree with him. Snow is like having a visit from your mother-in-law. The first or second time and the first day or two are fine. After that...things get ugly!
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