During the past two days, i’ve spent hours with a shovel, doing battle with the elements. i have absolutely no idea why it is so important that i excavate my driveway – which is roughly the size of a basketball court. Some degree of “fear of entrapment”, combined with my sense of homeowner responsibility. Perhaps just a touch of “i don’t want to be skating on ice nuggets for the rest of the week when i walk out to get the mail” thrown in for good measure.
Yesterday, i managed to clear about 4″ of the heavy, wet stuff in just about an hour. This morning, there was an additional foot of snow on the ground, so i bundled up and chipped away at it. An hour and a half later, i’d made it a third of the way towards the as yet unplowed street. Having no feeling left in my nose, it was time to regroup.
Midday, i finished round two – another 90 minutes of “woman against nature”. First, i removed the extra 3″ that had fallen onto the previously cleared section, and then tackled the untouched portion – drifting to 2′ in spots. i’d made it past mid-court, with about a third of the driveway left to go. Regrouped yet again as i couldn’t feel my right hand…
i just finished round three – still not quite there, but only a few feet to go. This time, i’m just worn out. i’ll need to go out later anyway and remove the “plow turds” from the end of the driveway should the city trucks ever make it back this way… so i’ll just finish up then.
Although there is a general sense of futility when shoveling snow during a blizzard, there is some degree of satisfaction. I felt strong, looking behind me and seeing progress. Comfort, knowing that i’m self-sufficient and independent. Thankfulness, knowing that i’m healthy enough to push a shovel.
…and total fucking annoyance at the sound of snowblowers. Yuppie bastards.
Tomorrow, after the snow stops, i’ll head across the street to tackle Mrs. E’s driveway. i hope to hell some of my yuppie bastard neighbors show up with those annoying snowblowers… or maybe a couple of Boy Scouts?
It could be worse. This is what Mr. Pickles encountered on the back deck as he attempted to relieve himself this morning. Can’t imagine having to take a leak in snow up to the ol’ junk… Brrr…
Post-script: the city plows came during the night, and i managed to clear my escape route driveway. as i was finishing up, and preparing myself mentally to tackle Mrs. E’s driveway, her son arrived in his BubbyTruck, complete with the Mother of All Snow-Blowers… Halle-fucking-lujah! A hot shower, more coffee and the Sunday paper!