Bachin' it up... Day 1

The first time I heard the phrase "bachin' it up" my husband was detailing a conversation he had with one of our neighbors.  His wife and daughter were going somewhere for the weekend, I can't recall where, leaving him and his son home alone for a few days.  As he boasted about the house being left to the boys he made the comment that he and his son were going to be bachin' it up that weekend. For a second, I had no idea what that meant.  Then, slowly, as the synapses started firing properly...men, no women, bachelors...click. Ah, that's clever.

If it works for the men, it's only proper that it works regardless what sex you are. Therefore, since I have the house to myself (with the dogs of course)...I am officially bachin' it up.  The husband has gone to Montana on a man-trip with 2 of his co-workers to go snowboarding in the mountains.  They're going to be "roughing it" in the wilderness in a house with no cable, no internet, and spotty cell reception. 

He hasn't been gone for 24 hours yet and I've already cursed him for leaving me.  The snowpocalypse left the cities scrambling to plow the roads and unfortunately they didn't do a final pass on my street until yesterday while I was at work.  I came home to 2 feet of chunky, wet plow snow blocking my last 100 feet to what I was hoping would be a relaxing evening.  I paused...thinking, "how the hell am I going to get over that?"  Then remembering I was in the jeep...gunned it over the top.  Vroom!

I figured I probably should shovel that crap out of the way...otherwise it'll freeze and I'll never get out with my own car, a POS Civic Coupe, until summer.  So after letting the dogs out to do their business, I bundled up and got to work.  The sun had been long gone, having set just before I got home, and the temperature had plummeted to a bitter -10°F (with windchill).  I quickly discovered how packed the snow was and spent the next 40 mins hacking away at it until there was just enough space to get one car through at a time.  I was huffing, really wishing I had a snowblower, cursing my husband for leaving me with this catastrophe. 

On Tuesday, the first time I'd gone out to shovel, I'd left the puppy running rampant through the house. After I came in an hour later, I found my nice, warm, fluffy pink slippers all torn up. I was upset that the puppy had eaten my slippers but I still learned my lesson.  So, yesterday on my way home I stopped at the pet store to get him some new things to chew on...rawhides, bully sticks, biscuits, and a squeaker stuffing-free raccoon toy.  I gave him the raccoon before I went out to shovel.  By the end of the night, the raccoon was missing his tail and lost it's squeak.  Kona had mashed the squeaker flat.  He loves it though.  He carried it around this morning while I was getting ready for work. 

So, I have a few more days to myself...I'm taking suggestions on things to do.