Tag: snow

Snow Man

On Sunday, as the winds howled, and the snow fell for hours, I was stuck inside. l got thinking about a possible topic for today’s post. I almost felt duty-bound to write about the latest shocking murders in Minneapolis. Or maybe I should tell you how “our boys,” the Blue Jays, are taking us to the cleaners with sky-high ticket prices because of last year’s success. Or perhaps I’d give a little jab at any Canadian who dares to criticize Mark Carney’s brilliant speech in Davos.

Then yesterday I changed my mind and grabbed my camera instead. We all awoke to bright sunshine radiating off sparkling piles of snow and I thought “Wow. This is beautiful! How lucky we are to have the change of seasons.” (Of course we also have indoor heating, and warming shelters, lots of salt, ploughs working around the clock to keep us going, and Snow Days. But I digress).

By 9:00 am. our neighbours were all out shovelling – two mothers and a son clearing sidewalks in front of their house, an older man across the street making a space for his car to back out, three teen-agers going house to house looking for shovelling work, and the kids next door heading to the hill with their sleds. Everyone seemed filled with energy.

After his second coffee, Peter put on his warm coat, boots and gloves, and even his hat which has been the butt of many jokes. He went out the back door to get his shovel. But where was his shovel? It’s usually standing right beside the back door, within easy reach when needed. But it wasn’t there. Had Canadian Tire run out of shovels and forced someone to steal ours? But there were no tracks. Could a Russian drone have picked it up? Or… could it be buried in a snowbank?

Peter got the kitchen broom from the cupboard and began his search. He brushed off the top step. He brushed his way to the nearby window well, where he spied a bit of red plastic. He inched forward on his knees and reached down. And up came his shovel. After shovelling a pathway to the walk on the side of the house, he gathered up the compost from inside and went cross-country to the big compost bin outside.

By then Peter was exhausted. He came inside for lunch and a quick nap. But he couldn’t sleep. The driveway was calling him. So he went into the garage and found the snow-blower which his son Daniel had given him several winters ago. It was practically unused. After searching a while for a suitable extension cord, Peter plugged it in and got started. The little snowblower looked a bit anxious about the daunting piles of snow ahead of it, but it chugged forward and back throwing snow to the sides of the driveway. I could almost hear it saying “I think I can, I think I can.”

And together they did. In less than an hour the driveway was cleared, ready for the cars to take us out. The pathway to the front door was cleared, ready for the mailman to bring us more flyers. And Peter had finished his day as the Abominable Snowman.

Yesterday was an exhilarating break from our usual day to day routines and worries, as we gave in to nature’s power; and beauty.

Sue

Life In the Snow Lane

For the past couple of winters we have been almost pining for a big dump of snow. It’s sparkly and clean, and it opens doors to activities outside. But during the past week we have had that big dump, over and over again. And we are somewhat overwhelmed. How did we manage to forget all the difficulties and disruptions that snow can bring?

After Peter and I saw the first snow we got ready to go outdoors. First we had to dig out our insulated high boots, the ones with the good grip. Our usual shoe/boots would not make it through the drifts, or keep us steady on the ice buried underneath. Then we found mittens because gloves just don’t keep fingers warm enough. As the crowning touch, Peter uncovered his Russian-style hat with ear flaps, and I put on my ear muffs. We were fashionistas!

On Friday the driveway had to be shovelled and Peter found our electric snow-blower which he hadn’t used in 2 or 3 years. It cleared the driveway just fine, but the piles at the end of the driveway left by the city plows were just too much for that little engine. After Peter tried the shovel, with little to show for his effort, a lovely younger neighbour from across the street offered to help. The excitement of shovelling was starting to wear thin so without hesitation Peter said yes.

When we were able to get the car out, we went canvassing for our local provincial candidate. The wind was howling and many sidewalks were not plowed. We had to climb over piles and drifts so we could walk on the road. Then we had to climb back over the plies to get to the homes, where the front steps were usually slippery. When we knocked on the front door, nobody was home. Or maybe they were home and just not opening the door to the cold winter winds. Who could blame them? According to records, this is the first election held in the winter since 1887, thanks to you-know-who.

Our candidate’s sign is almost buried.

On Saturday afternoon our extended family visited us to eat Canadian roast beef and help celebrate 3 family birthdays. Our daughter, who was bringing the salad, showed up at the door at 1:00 pm while I was still in my pyjamas. She had delivered the salad all the way from Orangeville and then, after a quick visit, she and her husband and the dog drove back to Orangeville before the snow got really heavy. This was a big sacrifice with little gain for them. I couldn’t even give them any (as yet uncooked) roast beef.

I hurried to get dressed before the next guests began arriving at 2:00. While I cooked the roast and set the table, the young dads and their sons bundled up and set out on a trip to the toboggan hill. Peter followed with his ipad so he could take pictures. They returned an hour later, all snowy, red-faced, and smiling, and we all ate dinner together. We hurried through the birthday cake course so everyone could clear off their cars and try to drive home. They made it safely, but it was a slow go.

On Sunday morning we looked out to see even more snow. Peter found numerous ways to delay his daunting task. He read the newspaper which the carrier had somehow delivered during the night, he helped me clean up the kitchen, he even took a short nap. Then he donned his Russian hat and went out. But a surprise awaited – the driveway was clear! Another wonderful neighbour, this one with a monster snow blower, had beaten him to it.

One really good thing about snow – it brings out the generosity of family, friends and neighbours.

Sue