There were no taxis, and no taxis answering the phone, so my mother-in-law came to pick us up and take us to the airport. The roads were bone-dry and largely untrafficked. The airport was line-free. The planes were on schedule from the west coast, turned right around, and left on time. And somehow it wasn't until we landed in Salt Lake City that we actually, finally could believe we were free of the Snowpocalypse.
And now, looking back at the last, cooped up week, it feels like we were living in the middle of a M. Night Shyamalan movie: don't tell them the snow's only their street!
I had the same revelation on Monday. However, by Wednesday, the whole neighborhood was in The Village. Didn't see a plow in our little Falls Church cul de sac until today - a big ass front loader.