We had a pretty good sized snow recently and while I managed to ignore it when it was coming down – sort of – it eventually attached enough of my attention that I decided to shovel the driveway that I share with my neighbor when I got home from work.
I got sort of bundled up and grabbed my shovel – and started to work. Except that the driveway is brick. And I would have had better luck trying to scoop up corn with a pitchfork. Every couple inches… BLAM! I hit a brick. I cleared the areas in front of the garages since they were slabs, but I was getting cold and going nowhere fast. I was working the bricks again when my neighbor came home and said,
“You don’t need to do that,”
And then, like magic…
“I have a snowblower,”
It was some of the best news I’d heard all winter. I said I would go ahead and clear the steps and our sidewalks – he thanked me and then noticed that I’d done in front of his garage as well.
I think it was a good thing that I had made the effort – shows a “good neighbor” kind of thing – but I am very relieved that he’s got the rest covered.
I finished up the shoveling I was going to do, then went inside and fixed myself a scalding hot cup of tea. My fingers eventually stopped hurting from the cold and I found myself almost looking forward to the next snowfall.
Almost.