There is snow and then there is snow

It snows a lot up here in Maine. Just FYI. In fact, so far, it hasn't really snowed anything less than one foot at a time. Pretty much. There was that foot the day before Halloween. That melted (thank goodness). And then the foot the day before Thanksgiving (in the photo. That melted, too, remarkably). And then there were a few minor inches here or there (child's play).

And then there was yesterday. I naively wore my "short boots" to work -- boots that were perfectly adequate for two winters in Indiana -- because there was no snow on the ground when I left for work.

Mistake.

By the time I got home, there were about nine inches. And the assorted exotic snow removal machines that they have up here in Maine were here, there, and everywhere. Along with copious sirens due to accidents. The snow here is always so epic. And the response to it is always so epic (layers and layers of chunky salt piled up on the sidewalks, for example), that it is quite entertaining for me. At least until Sunday when the high temperature is something like twelve degrees Fahrenheit.