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Monday, January 24, 2005
The Real Abominable Snowman
As you might have seen on the news, the Northeast U.S. got quite a pounding from a snowstorm on Saturday. Mom and I had a funeral to go to, and by the time we were leaving at around 10 a.m. the snow had started in earnest. It was piling up at a really good clip for a while there, a couple inches per hour at least. But snow on a Saturday is a lovely thing. We just resigned ourselves to being snowed in and watched it accumulate. We got probably a little more than a foot. 14 inches or so, would be my best guess.

Sunday morning, however, the snow removal process had to begin. You look out the window and one neighbor is out shoveling, and you feel compelled to put on all your gear and get out there, so as not to look lazy. As I'm adding layer upon layer of clothing I'm thinking about how at *my* housing complex they pay someone to come shovel our walk and plow, yet here I am helping she-of-the-herniated-disk, my mother (while in return getting home-cooked meals, though). Oh well, there's something rural and bracing and empowering about shoveling 14 inches of snow out of your four car-length driveway one shovelful at a time, right?

But doesn't it just stand to reason, that our lovely neighbor from down the street, for whom I couldn't have invented a better name than his own (Mr. Bear) is out with his industrial strength snow blower. . .very pointedly going around to each neighbor's driveway BUT OURS and out of the goodness of his heart (or alcohol-induced stupor) clearing out each driveway BUT OURS. This posed a bit of a dilemma for him, as mom shares her driveway with our next door neighbor, who, while not exactly a crony of Mr. Bear, is still on speaking terms with him. How was Mr. Bear going to do for our neighbor while still thumbing his be-veined nose at us, when our driveways are one and the same?

Mr. Bear's solution was to yell from across to the street to Neighbor-Rob, "where's your friend with his snowblower?" When Rob mentioned that the said friend was still sleeping, the Bear decided that he "would leave him his fun," and strolled off down the street. Later he came back down to our neck of the woods to retrieve his gas can, which he had left at the neighbor's on the other side. He was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. You just have to laugh, really. . .and keep shoveling.

P.S. This post is quite Amanda-esque, isn't it. Sorry, Amanda.
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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