Snow Shoveling @ MindSay 
To preface, since I was born and raised in Hawai'i, I never had to deal with the snow. I never had to drive in it, never had to shovel my driveway, heat up my car before getting in...all those fun things that goes with living in a cold climate. But before you all feel like you want to kick my ass, I must disclose we did and still DO have mosquitos and rain. Prehistoric mosquitos that eat you alive, and lots and lots of rain. Not to mention the occasional hurricaine.
I never lived in snow until I moved to Colorado for college, and boy did I hate driving in the snow with the 'black ice'. So how fitting I've ended up in Arizona, where our winters are wonderful - as long as you are down south. Flagstaff though is another story.
We were finally able to go to our house in Flagstaff for the first time in about 6 weeks. With the holidays, we were visiting family around the U.S. so we didn't really have a free weekend to make the trip up here.
We were excited to see how much snow was still on the ground, since Flagstaff had gotten pounded with snow from 3 different storms in December and January. What I forgot to think about was how much snow had piled up in our driveway. That's right, as you snow-savvy citizens of the world know, if you don't shovel/plow your driveway, it keeps piling up and up and up! Not to mention the ice bank that forms where your driveway meets the street from the street plow.
There was about 3 feet of snow in our driveway. We sunk in to our knees trying to walk to the front door. After calling around, we did get a quote from someone who had to 'bring the bobcat and snow plows' out, which would cost us $900. Ha ha.
So we went to Sears and bought a snow plow. I told Mike he should plow neighbors' driveways in order to have the plow pay for itself. We got home, and after trudging through the snow again, i decided to shovel a walking path to the garage from the street where our car was. It would also serve as my exercise for the day. If you ever want a full-body workout, shovel snow that is 3 feet deep.
It took me about an hour but I managed to carve out a pretty good path. I had to break the ice with the snow pick we bought, and would shovel the snow out of the way. Pick, shovel, pick, shovel. Two separate men who were taking their daily walks (a lot of older people live up here and take daily walks) walked by and were so impressed that the wife was shoveling the driveway. One said he wished he had his camera so he could take a picture to show his wife my handiwork.
Mike then got out our brand-new Craftsman 26" snow plow (the last one in the store!) and plowed away until we could pull our car up in the driveway. Success!
I'll add some pictures shortly.
I almost cried.
My strength renewed, I finished shoveling and now I'm sitting here drinking down massive amounts of cold water to rehydrate and relax. Just that little bit of appreciation made it worthwhile. Let this be an example to you: show a little appreciation to someone today, let it be a stranger who seems to be working hard, let a smile shine on them. You will be amazed at the results. The appreciation goes both ways.
I will not forget this gift.
So today I was in the midst of a brief text message conversation and it occurred to me that women can't write their names in the snow. I mean, I'm sure some have tried but I'm willing to bet "my cursive is going to be perfect" is the last thing that runs through their heads (or your heads, assuming more than one woman reads this) when they are shoveling the driveway and have to go (also assuming that women shovel the driveway). This struck me as quite sad. Not only do you have to put up with menstruation, makeup, and the need to wear matching clothes, but you don't get to make cute designs for everyone to ponder, or to simply state that "you were he . . . . " (sorry, ran out). Well I guess it's up to me then. Because none of you ever have I will write your names for you. Every time I pee in the snow I'm going to write a different female name, well, for as long as I remember too. There will be a Veronica, a Candy, a Laverne . . . oh yes, all the greats, all the not-so greats, and likely some I make up. But sorry ladies, the first of the season belongs to "Joe" (with as many squigly underlinings as I have the will to supply). See that, I'm giving back.
Till next time.
P.S. I realize it's spring, I guess seasons don't effect (affect?) my mind wandering.
Hmmm...not the ringtone I was hoping for. I haven't been able to get ahold of Knuter since early yesterday, and I know he had quite a bit of driving to do in this nastiness. Fretting about Knuter is ridiculous, as he's the most practical and safety-minded non-stodge I've met, but in some way I think we measure our love for someone by how ridiculous our emotions get about them. Weird.
Our nursery coordinator, letting me know church was canceled. This is odd, but considering the Apocalypse of Weather that's landing on us over this weekend, understandable. Fall back asleep, 'til Dad comes in to wake me. For whatever reason, I take anything involving too much noise before I'm properly awake as a personal attack. I can't get mad at Dad, because he doesn't usually bother me in the morning unless it's important. In this case, he needs a hand with the driveway.
Actually, all three of us are being roused. I have to confess, Munchkin's the only one of us who really has a servant's heart, and I admire her for that. I'm up because I know I need to be, and I like shoveling. "Slug" has become the household's affectionate nickname for our middle sibling, due to her lifestyle. She'll be the last one out - roused eventually, but it takes a good deal of effort.
Yesterday was a long, windy ice storm. Everything had to be iced down first, or it would blow away. I ended up off-course twice going between the store and my car. By happy accident, I parked with my trunk and driver's side taking the brunt of the wind. This means that I don't have to wrestle these plates of ice off my windshield (when I say iced-down, I mean it. Everything is covered with a half-inch of ice without exaggeration.), and I have one side of my car that is not iced shut, so I can climb in the passenger side and punch my driver's side door open.
The night before had been just a very dense snow. A little odd - soft but heavy. I'd kind of like to try skiing in it - I don't know what it would be like, but it'd be something new.
Today, we got what the munchkin declared to be "cheesecake!" In about appropriate proportions, we had deep snow, and a two-inch crust of ice underneath it. Dad had been working for about an hour, and cleared maybe ten feet.
About the servant's heart - I meant out of the three of us. Dad's servant's heart is an absolute inspiration. He just takes it for granted that he'll be doing the projects, and he's always working hard without looking for praise. Just sees the job that needs to be done, and does it. It's a trait I'm trying to foster in myself, and one I admire in the people around me.
Four-person job. Dad's got the UP-er scooper (for anyone who lives in some far-off imaginary land like Arizona, UP would be the Upper Peninsula, Michigan. The idea is that they get scads more snow there, and presumably sell it to Texas and ski hills on ebay), carting off the snow so that our driveway is encircled by a fortified embankment of solid fluff. Kiddo's varying between the ice pick and the utility shovel, breaking the ice up into chunks. I'm just using a basic snow shovel, gathering the chunks and flinging them up on the snow embankments. Our sister is standing over by the van with the red roller-shovel, looking perplexed. She doesn't do very well with mornings.
The kid and I switch off a few times. She's trying to learn "lift with your legs, not your back". Middle-child wakes up and begins excavating the van. Dad's clearing more territory - our driveway looks like a tetris figure. I'll let you guess which one - it's got four cubes, and it's not the L. Once I'm properly awake (there's something weird with the world when eight-and-a-half hours is not enough sleep), I really do enjoy this. Making progress, clearing ground, actually doing something physical, taking care of something that needs to be done, being out in the cold, having fun with my sisters...life is good!
The snow's deep, but the air's not that cold - it's definitely above zero, and probably more than seven degrees out. I head into the garage and throw my underfleece into the back of my car, get back to work. Bit later, head back in, throw my coat into my car, wear just my underfleece. Much better. Dad's down to just a work shirt, too. Munchkin exchanges layers as well. It's a good day to be out.
Someone's brought the dog out. I have to love his attitude about life. Almost everything is new, being outside is great, being with people is wonderful, and let's go run over here and see what we can find! Constant spirit of happiness. Munchkin calls him over now and again, and he lights up, making these bounds to try to get through the deep snow faster to be with her. He's definitely her dog. We've got this game we play with him, pitching snowballs. He'll leap in the air and snap at them, and get powder all over his face. If he misses one, he'll go hunting for it in the snow - nevermind that the one he comes up with is nothing like the one thrown to him. I intend to have a shepherd mix in my own family someday.
Dad and the kid switch off, I take to ice-chipping. After an incident with the sidewalk, I'm a little leery of the ice pick. Already this morning, I've taken two chips out of the concrete driveway with just the steel shovel. I'll stick with the shovel, thank you very much. Dog's off down in the woods, exploring. Technically, in-town leash laws frown on this, but we're the only people outside down here, and he comes when called.
There's a constant banter being called back and forth across the driveway. Just silly stuff, lines from movies we've all seen and loved (that almost no one else in our peer group would know), bits of songs, a take on "Whassup?", banter about the proper way to execute this particular task, questioning the ethics of snowfall...all the things we are. I was voted "Most Unique" in my senior class, and it's no secret that my sisters will likely be attaining the same honor. I do feel blessed to have them as my family.
The kid declares that at ten we should take a break and have breakfast. Dad's response is not a refusal, but an argument of the merits - which carries the underlying message that if we convince him, it shall be so. A compromise is proposed, success is attained. All the snow's cleared, the current ice chunks are cleared off - FOOD!
Yes, we sound like that when we come in. Mom's been making breakfast for her four hungry bears, a fact that is well-appreciated, and admired. I wish I could be that kind of mom, but I'm pretty sure that in my family, I'll be the one who goes out to shovel - I like it more. Mom likes being inside where it's warm.
This is not to say that I don't enjoy cooking. There's a point of pride and happiness in being able to make something for the people you care about. But given the choice, I'd rather be out in the drifts, throwing snow and clearing ground.
It's a sort of breakfast-lunch. My concern for Knuter (who I STILL haven't heard from) brings him and the ski hill into the conversation. Debate about what today would be like on the snow, different places we've all gone (Mom and Dad's experiences have all been out East, ours have been here), terrific accidents middle-child's had, raucous debate and generally good feeling.
I know my home here is temporary, and that I'll have a larger family when I do go Home. But I can tell you that it is a point of joy that my current family will be there, too.
It just keeps coming down. At least Im getting exercise shoveling the driveway and walkway.
The cats enjoy watching the snow too.
Max sitting all funny!
There was alot of frost on some of the windows too.
