It started to snow and forgot to stop...so much snow, in the worst of all possible locations: my driveway.
Day One: It all started, as it often does, with just a little bit of light, easily shoveled snow, a “poof” of snow; snow that is all pristine and picturesque—and for Christmas! How perfect! My grand kiddos are delighted. I am delighted!
Day Two: I may get a little bit weird about people driving on my driveway BEFORE I have a chance to shovel it--actually, don’t even walk on it until I shovel the path first. I shovel far, and wide, opening up lots of room so that when the bigger accumulations come I won’t be hemmed in by snowbanks that are either too narrow, or too high to throw the new snow over. Because this is not my first Snowrodeo, I also have multiple snow shovels. Even though my kids no longer live at home, I keep extra shovels handy in case they return during a snowpocolypse. I am even able to Tom Sawyer Mark into thinking that shoveling snow is “fun.” Things are working out...
Day Three: When I shovel snow, I know how to stop. The snow doesn’t seem to be able to. We re-shovel in front of the garage and the driveway. We shovel the opening at the end of the drive that the snowplow always closes. I shovel out the mailboxes. And the opening to a neighbors’ driveway, because while the snow is deep, it is still “poof.” Sure, there are 15” of the stuff, but it’s just fluff. No problem. ...
Day Four Hundred and Eight-Seven: the snow is not as light. It is significantly heavier than Day One. And sloppier. No poof, no fluff, just glop. It continues to snow as I shovel. Or maybe that’s not snow, but really wet, sloppy, heavy cement disguised as snow...
I go inside and google “snow-blowers for sale near you.” Of course, there are none in my zip code. I seem to remember I promised myself once before that I would just buy the dang snowblower already. Lies, all lies. Why do I even believe me anymore? I google “signs of cabin fever” and glare at the cats, who glare back, mad that I won’t let them outside to eat birds. I google “Saint Bernard puppies for sale.”
