Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Giving Up

with 9 comments

To heck with keeping up, I’m ready to give up. The snow-pocalypse of February wins. I can only endure so much, and it turns out, unending accumulation of plow-able amounts of snow in close succession is more than my fragile mind can handle.

It takes a certain mental discipline to clear the quarter-mile of driveway from the house to the road, then around the hay shed and in front of the barn, when the snow is falling fast enough to cover your progress as fast as you make it.

That’s alright. After the year when I waited until the snow was absolutely stopped before plowing, and there was too much for even my big tractor to clear, I learned that it would be smarter to plow whenever we get 5 or 6 inches, even if it was still snowing.

But it is very rare that it would take more than two sessions of plowing. Until now.

I am officially drained of my stoic Northland resilience. Is this one of the ways that zombies are created? I am but a shell of my former self. In the fading light of day, I found myself stumbling up the driveway from the barn, dragging a shovel behind me, while the snow continued to fall.

There is no space to push more snow. At the end of the day yesterday, the wind started to pick up and create drifts. Of all times for us to need more gas, it happens in the heart of a big snowstorm.

I stayed home from work yesterday, and the highlight of the day for me was that I wasn’t driving my car on snowy roads. Then I needed gas. Out I ventured onto the drifted roads in my car, frowning.

This battle all played out after I had spent the early part of the day raking snow off the roof, and then needing to shovel the giant mound from our front steps.

It was exhausting work, but when I finished, it seemed like the snow was letting up, inspiring me to move on to the plowing. I even saw a glimpse of a bright yellow circle in the sky, through the clouds for a few seconds.

It didn’t last. Halfway through plowing, the rate of snowfall picked up dramatically. That was pretty much the point that my brain threw in the towel.

The rest of the plowing was devoid of my usual attention to detail.

There are options that would serve to remedy my problem of having nowhere to push more snow: a snowblower attachment, for one.

Visiting Cyndie’s parents in Florida for several months is another possibility. I wonder if they would mind if we brought all our animals along.

I think the horses and chickens are all about as done with falling snow as I am.

.

.

Written by johnwhays

February 13, 2019 at 7:00 am

9 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. My internet just stole my response to you 😦
    What I thought was that your trip to the sunshine state was a bad representation of what winter can be πŸ˜‰ I understand this phenomenon…I look at the news and can’t conceive of what you are going through! Hang tight my friend…sending you lots of warmth and sunshine…it can’t last too much longer…can it????

    And thank you SO MUCH for your words yesterday…they were a tonic for a hurting heart ❀

    lorriebowden

    March 4, 2019 at 10:03 am

    • We know in our heads that the end of winter is near, but we still must endure the old adage, “It’s always snowiest just before the melt,” or something like that.

      You are welcome for the love. πŸ™‚ Thank YOU for the warmth and sunshine you send our way!!

      johnwhays

      March 4, 2019 at 10:09 am

      • Always!!
        Just after I read your words yesterday I got news that a friend had unexpectedly passed. Your words and the energy that surrounded them truly helped me in preparation for that news. I don’t always understand things that happen, but you are spot on…we have to LOVE…JUST LOVE!
        Sweet blessings, my friend.

        lorriebowden

        March 4, 2019 at 10:25 am

      • Oh, my. Condolences on your loss, Lorrie.

        johnwhays

        March 4, 2019 at 10:33 am

  2. Keep going and be positive! One day will stop β˜ΊοΈβ„οΈ

    popsiclesociety

    February 13, 2019 at 8:39 am

    • Thank you! Yes, it does stop eventually, and usually the sun comes out, too! I DO want to remain positive, despite momentary bouts of dismay.

      johnwhays

      February 13, 2019 at 1:37 pm

  3. Ha, ha: and then tomorrow you will need to deal with the thaw…Getting snowed in isn’t so bad if you have provisions set aside, who knows what you might make of some downtime… I have learned that the secret of life is to work in rhythm with Nature as you will be crushed, otherwise – not to mention all the additional expenses incurred. Of course, going to a funeral may make you feel that you need to transcend such things, even if it costs you your life. Life is also our ‘take on things’ for good and for bad. Chin up!

    Ian Rowcliffe

    February 13, 2019 at 8:38 am

    • I’ve always liked how you adapt to whatever Nature presents. It’s a good mindset to have. I have a tendency to allow external events dictate whether I end up working against Nature or not. I much prefer the pleasures of working in rhythm with it!

      johnwhays

      February 13, 2019 at 1:35 pm

      • Sure you do: I remember the igloo you once built, I remember your stone balancing constructions, the chicken coop time, yes, I remember countless words on images as you enhance your perspective and reflect on the magic that you have been a part of and truly blessed with.

        Ian Rowcliffe

        February 13, 2019 at 5:20 pm


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: