We made it! The 30-minute flight was 4 hours late, and in a brilliant stroke of luck, we managed to get our luggage just in time to catch the next airport shuttle to our town.
An hour and a half later, we stood at the drop off point, a gas station about a mile from Mr B's house. The time: midnight.
Well, there was nothing for it but to walk. It actually was a nice little hike: not too cold, streets quiet, everything covered in snow... except it was midnight. But twenty minutes later it was all over.
Today's problem was how to get to my house, 3 miles away, with Mr B's car parked at the train station an hour south of here. Lucky for me the Ex is a very good sport, volunteering to leave work and pick me up in his Very Big Truck.
I got home and immediately attacked the foot of snow in my driveway. I knew there had to be a car in there somewhere! Eventually I prevailed and managed to get myself into work, only to be greeted by a very grumpy technician who had shown up four hours earlier to work on some equipment. Hey, if he'd've called me, I'd'a told him I'd be late. Sorry, man.
Meanwhile, Mr B caught a ferry to catch a bus to his car at the train station and is probably getting home right about now. And that, boys and girls, is an explicit illustration of how a quiet little birthday weekend away plus a snowstorm equals a huge, fucking hassle.
p.s. Did I mention the forecast is for another four to six inches of snow tomorrow? Did I mention that we generally don't do snow around here? Good times.