Thursday, February 15, 2007

My snow day

This poorly exposed photo documents the first 20 minutes or so of my Valentine's snow day. It was just enough shoveling for me to think "hey, a little shovelin's not so bad." Then I realized that for the first time in six years we wouldn't be able to just drive our monster station wagons over the snow drifts down the drive. I bet it took me and my $5 shovel (pictured) close to an hour and a half before we were done, with no breakfast in me even. And I finished right when morning cartoons were over, of course, so 2 year old Mr. B turned to me just as I slumped into a chair with a banana and said "Da-ad. I wanna play you. Duck Duck Firetruck!" And Duck Duck Firetruck is not a game you can play half way, either. But it was a swell day. All that snow.
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6 comments:

tsea said...

I can't wait to be home.

sarahjane said...

you guys are good men--shoveling the driveways for your wives.

Oden, Miles said...

Oh snow.

I thought it would be a GREAT idea to drive the Jeep all around an abandoned parking lot at 11 in the evening the other night. Which of course it great fun, until you go ass deep in a snow bank in the middle of nowhere.

So, I'm sitting there...cursing my unbelievable stupidity (which is becoming a regular thing for me), deliberating what few options I have. When out of nowhere, some Country Boys show up in their Bronco. --Honest to god, like a pack of angels.

And they get out, the three of them (none older than 16) and ask if I need a tow. Of course none of us had a rope. And they're like, "Well. There's a WAL-MART around, we could just take you and get one".

I wanted to scream.

I keep forgetting that there are genuinely good people who still walk around us.

So we went and got a tow rope--and I bought them all candy and soda pops because it's in rare cases of such great generosity that people actually DESERVE candy and soda pops. We get back and try to yank that big black bastard on four wheels out of the snow.

And we're trying and trying and trying for an hour, in which time we've made about two feet's worth of progress.

When this kindly, middle-age black man out for a late night trot sees us--and comes to help. He obviously has more experience, because he gets us out no problem in like 5 minutes and asks me for 20 bucks, which I'm more than happy to give him--along with a big fucking hug, which confuses him and makes him smirk, but then smile.

And somewhere in that story there is a lesson.

tsea said...

Wow Miles, that read more like a blog post than a comment. Not an attack mind you, just quite a comment! I don't have any snow stories here. The closest I get is avoiding ice by riding my bike on the road... and as Mr. Hill knows, that didn't last long.

Mr. Hill said...

I love that the guy is just out for a walk and he gets you out in no time. What did he do? I imagine him telling you something like "y'see boys, what you need to do is tie the rope to the truck in the ditch."

Calypso said...

Ahh yes... I was the one shoveling at my house. And of course the brakes on OUR station wagon are dead, so I had to scrape every godforsaken piece of sludge-encrusted ice off so my mom's Lincoln could get back up the driveway.

The weatherman says it'll be 40 degrees by Tuesday. :-)