Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Maybe a Flame Thrower Would Help
Then, the weathermen started raising their voices to announce, in dire tones, the arrival of winter. Snow was a'comin', ma, and you'd better git your collective selves to the groceteria and buy you some bread, milk and eggs, even if you didn't need them. You just don't know.
There is a wonderful pre-spring smell that the earth gives off in those rare 60 degree days in late March and early April. This wasn't it, but the air smelled clear and fresh and I wished it could be bottled to be let out inside my house when I've been shut inside for several days. It would say, "It's coming. Just be patient." For the record, Pilchard came out but she didn't linger. She sniffed and went back inside.
It started slowly snowing on Thursday mid-morning. With all the hype about how bad it was going to be, I was allowed to go home an hour early with the express admonition that I get into the office as soon as I could on Friday morning. "We're so busy, someone has to be here and you live the closest." Yeah, well, if we get a foot of snow, forget it. I have to shovel and I won't make it in.
I didn't get to any shoveling until Sunday. It was a glorious winter's day on Sunday, with a bright sun melting a lot of the snow. I almost didn't shovel but it's not a good idea to leave all that snow on to melt on the deck. I need to scrub the desk top anyway and repaint it this coming summer.
Of course, this bothers me. The snow was heavy to lift. I didn't have a good grasp of the shovel because it hurt. Several times, I had to talk myself out of just quitting. I'm not that much for prayer, for various reasons, but my simple entreaties are for lots of small dumpings, less than 4 inches each time. I will probably be reduced to tears if I have to maneuver anything more off decks and porches and steps and sidewalks.
It goes on my shoulders, hip, knees and wrists. I don't think I want it on my hands when I will be stitching. It says 'greaseless' but let's not even tempt fate on that. Come the end of the month, I'll get a large tube of Ben Gay but this has helped me feel less helpless and more that I can do things. I won't be mountain climbing any time soon, but I can shovel a few inches of frozen water.
But a flame thrower would be best. Yes, yes. A flame thrower.
Beverage: Edinburgh's Finest tea
Posted by Deb Montague at 3:38:00 PM
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