If it was me again in Dale City I would take no chances, and no prisoners. I would go out there and dig every fracking flake of snow I could find. I would shovel the driveway, the walk, even the whole damn road! I would pile that precious snow on the north sides of sunlight blocking objects, and pile it crazy high. You know when you live in Northern Virginia you gotta make the best of things, and man did I fucking embarrass the fook out of everyone back when I was so young and I worshipped snow like Bitcoin and prompts today. My late dad used to cry when I got into this mode. You gotta get out there. You gotta dig it. You gotta dog it. You gotta get every last flake. I lived in Dale City and you better believe I knew where I lived, and it sure was not Mammoth Ski Resort. I went out and I dug snow til my arm fell off and my back was obliterated. I piled snow until I KNEW I would have snow in my yard until August, until people stared at crazy Jebman and gaped, with their lower jaws resting on the ground.