: the unsung :

image156I looked out the window this morning and what to my wondering eyes did appear? A red, red robin was bob-bob-bobbin’ along. Seriously. In December. In Illinois. Not only that, but the grass is still green, for heaven’s sake. Did no one get the memo? Winter’s supposed to start bright and early on Friday.

Does this mean it’s been canceled?

That’s the question, isn’t it? And it looms large — for me, anyway. As you may or may not know, winter is my nemesis. I resent its very existence and dread its horrible conditions. Snow, icicles, frost, black ice, arctic blasts, slush, sleet, freezing rain, sub-zero temperatures, there’s just nothing good about the season. Nothing. Wait, there is one positive, happy note in winter: snow days. I love those, I do.

The day after snow days? Whole different story. They’re torture, my friend. By definition, a snow day means you’re buried under lots and lots and lots of snow, stuff someone has to get rid of. Who would that someone be?


You’re the one who’ll wind up shoveling all that cold, wet, heavy, sloppy snow. It’ll take hours and your nose will run throughout. Your feet will go numb. Your hands will sting. Your back will ache. You’ll unleash new and creative expletives. And when you’re all done? City plows will barricade your driveway with a couple tons of dirty, packed snow when they pass. Do they do it on purpose? You’ve gotta wonder.

The year the blade fell off my snow shovel I quit with the shoveling. Each time I threw off the snow I’d shoveled, the blade went with it. I’d have to go pick it up, put it back on, shovel another swath, throw that, go get the blade, put it back on, over and over and over. That continued until I finally got smart enough to clamp the blade to the shovel with vise grip pliers.

These days I shovel snow with a phone. I call a guy with a truck and snow removal equipment. Works every time. There is no weather inclement enough to stay that dude from his appointed rounds. He is my hero. To him and all the others who haul away the tons and tons of mayhem that falls from wintry skies, thank you. I tip my ear-flapped hat to you all.

Copyright © publikworks 2012

16 thoughts on “: the unsung :

  1. The blade fell off…you went to get it…it fell off again. Lisa, that sounds like a game of fetch or a scene from a funny movie. I am glad you upgraded from a shovel to a phone. I wish I had an ear-flap hat. Shoot, I wish I had gloves…to wear in the house. Happy winter! Merry Christmas (or not)! Happy New Year!!


    1. I kept my neighbors entertained year-round. As soon as I started shoveling or mowing they’d all file out of their houses to watch the show. Did they ever offer to help? No. They’d just point and laugh.

      Happy New Year back at you, LD.


  2. My goal is to live where you don’t need heat or air conditioning. I’m thinking Hawaii.

    And, if you were wondering, here in Central Texas, it is currently 72F. Lots of pollen though, so we’re the sneezing bunch in shorts.


  3. Great post, love it! Ain’t it the truth too…. The older I get (52 this month) the less desirable that crap is. We too have a big truck blast the drive clear. All that needs a shovel is a 15 foot sidewalk. ;)


  4. The only time we hired someone to clear our driveway, he gauged up our lawn pretty bad and messed up this little rock barrier…but it was WORTH it. Now, we have a snowblower, which beats all that shoveling any day! Not a lot of snow here in NY yet and that is FINE by me… Happy Hollydays Publikworks! :)


    1. Thank you, home tome. Merry Christmas to you!

      Put me behind a snowblower and watch the fun. By the time I’d finish clearing the driveway I’d be wearing the blown snow and look like a big marshmallow. Plus my glasses would need defrosting.


    1. Me skiing, that would be something. I’d be wintering in orthopedic wards and starring in the World’s Funniest Videos simultaneously. I like hanging out in ski lodges and drinking cocoa, though — as long as I don’t actually have to ski.


      1. Seriously, you should try it. Hang out on the bunny hills, pay for a lesson. I loved it when I learned, and that was only a couple of years ago. It actually gave me something to look forward to in winter, which is pretty amazing in and of itself.


    1. I’m sure there are wonderful, beautiful things in Maine. Like the people and the scenery, right? But I’d never get past the perpetual winter part. Never. I admire your adaptability, moviewriter.


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