We received six inches of snow overnight. Thanks to my semi-crippled back, my idea of shoveling is a minute here, minute there, and an hour inside the house. Simply shoveling the sidewalk clear is a production in itself.
It had to be done, though, because mail is delivered on foot, not with on-street mailboxes as I was accustomed to in our old neighborhood. I just spent the last twenty-five minutes waging war with a defective snow shovel in digging out the abyss. I get back in the house and barely take my snowsuit off when BLAM! Here comes the DPW snowplow down the street.
The sidewalk looks like it's never been touched.
I wish there was no mail delivery today, or I'd leave the sidewalk like that as a monument to my poor timing. This is my 36th year witnessing the white stuff, and the lesson keeps coming back to me every year to watch out for that darned plow. As northerners know as well, what they pile up on your driveway is even harder to shovel out.
I laughed last night when I saw a plow company come by just to do someone's driveway (and I'm not talking snowblowers, I'm talking the plow blades attached to a 4x4 truck). Now I wish I had obtained their number. This recent snow and constant mind-numbing cold actually makes me wish I was in Florida -- and I'm no traveller by any stretch!
Guess I'll make some "Be Careful" signs in the meantime.
