Relative Something

It wasn’t that long ago that the worst weather incident we were facing was the branches snapped off by the weight of an early, heavy, wet snow. How quickly things change. When more than a foot of new snow falls, and the temperatures plummet and wind chills get dangerously low, it seems a long time away from what it was like just a couple weeks before. Now we’ve got piles of snow that have frozen rock-hard, pushed high by snowplows and obstructing sight lines and traffic lanes. This is why people grow to loath winter. If you only interact with winter by way of an automobile, these things make it extremely aggravating.

Find a way to get out and play in the snow. It is the ultimate antidote for what ails the winter driver.

Remember when snow was fun? Charlie and Ryan and Elysa do…

I’m not going to add up how much time in total was spent working on the igloo this year, but in the end, we gave up on the mechanism and resorted to placing some blocks we made separately to finally top it off. Works dandy. It helps that we experienced a downpour of snow right as we were finishing. Automatic application of mortar for the cracks. Most remarkable is that we were able to get this done despite the almost non-stop onslaught of food being served up. I don’t know how we found the time.

Nick gets credit for the finishing work

I have been a shoveling fool lately. Some of it, by choice. Last week we had some sleet/freezing rain/snow that really needed to be cleaned off the driveway and sidewalk or risk the chance it might freeze up for good. I hustled to get it done in the final moments before leaving town for the weekend. Then, the very next day, I went and shoveled the rink up at the lake. That was something I probably didn’t have to do, but it was a labor of love to prepare a rink for boot hockey to serve the Hays clan planning to gather next weekend. After a day of that shoveling, I was instructed to move the grill out so we could use it to cook Saturday’s dinner. The path to do that required shoveling, and it proved to be the toughest foe I would face. When the driveway up at the lake had been plowed, they dumped a pile right in front of the walkway to the lower deck and by that time it had set up like concrete. I chipped away at it in small chunks until I got it cleared. The next day I pushed a lot of powder snow to make piles for creating blocks to the igloo. Then came Monday’s 7 inch snowfall and I was back in the driveway at home moving massive amounts of snow. Overnight, another couple more inches accumulated, but I didn’t have time to tend to it in the morning so the wonderful wake of the city snowplow that filled the end of the driveway was able to set for the whole day until I got to it late last night.

I do love to shovel snow, but I also really love not shoveling snow, if you know what I mean.

There is something satisfying about the appearance of freshly cleared snow that is even more rewarding if it is the result of your own labor. However, back before Christmas, when we got hit by a series of significant snowfalls, one after another, I didn’t hesitate to accept, when my neighbor offered to clear the pile a the end of the driveway with his snow blower. As much as I enjoy the chore, I didn’t want to deny my neighbor the opportunity to help out.

My willingness to accept assistance notwithstanding… lately, with the snowfalls and my weekend plans combining in such concise timing, my affinity for shoveling is proving to reveal me as quite the glutton for punishment.

We worked awful hard at playing yesterday. It was absolutely beautiful winter weather. Lots of sunlight even though the sky wasn’t quite clear blue and the wind was negligible. There was a hint of an outline from a previous rink someone had created on the lake, but it didn’t look like it was very big and it didn’t look like it had a good shape, so I elected to start from scratch. So, while trying to learn how to use the new tool for making igloos that I got for Christmas, I was also shoveling the perfect size and shape rink for a game of boot hockey. Our friends, Mike & Barb, were here to help and while Cyndie and I scraped the crust off the ice surface, they got in a snowshoe hike. We made slow progress on the igloo, with all the interruptions and our learning curve of technique, but thinking back to many other igloo construction projects, I often don’t get the whole thing done in one day. Several of our interruptions were a result of other people stopping by. A variety of folks who were out for a walk, ski ,and snowmobile ride, stopped by to inquire about our project. I guess it has something of a visual appeal. I shouldn’t be surprised. I found myself wanting to just stare at the product of our efforts as I climbed the stairs back up to the cabin at the end of the day.

I may be wrong about this, but it sure seems to me that people today have come to expect that snowstorms shouldn’t alter their regular routines one bit. To a certain extent, I am as guilty as anyone else, but I have always been one to venture out in snow events. I have almost always driven 4-wheel drive vehicles. But in the past, I was one of a small number of people who were out before the plows. Now I find all sorts of vehicles forging their way, devising arbitrary routes and pathways, and parking in vague proximity to normally expected spots. The poor snow-plow drivers must execute their maneuvers with the added challenge of navigating traffic.

Yesterday, I guess the snow didn’t accumulate early enough for the plows to get ahead of the regular morning traffic. As I crested a small rise at the approach to my health club driveway, I found two county plows stopped, the back one with the driver’s side door open. A car ahead of me went around them and turned right in front of them to enter the club parking lot. I chose to follow, thinking the plows weren’t headed anywhere with that door open. A couple of vehicles approaching were waiting to make their left turns into the same lot, so I felt I shouldn’t dawdle there and leave them waiting.

I made the turn as I cleared the first plow, only to find the pickup that was trying to clean the parking lot, in my lane, in what appeared to be a standoff with the county trucks. To get by him, my only option was to enter in the wrong lane, and of course there was someone trying to leave at the same time, so we were now face to face. I had very quickly made myself the center of the multi-faceted problem. I was very happy not to be trying to plow snow while cars continue to move about as if it was just another day. It’s gotta be frustrating.

Later, on the freeway, cars whizzed past me as if the pavement were clear and dry. But evidence to the contrary was visible in the tracks of the spinouts that must have bounced against the concrete center barrier and from the paths blazed into the ditches on the right. People expect to be able to drive the posted limit, regardless the snow event. It is expected that the Department of Transportation should remove the snow and salt the roadway and that cars should be able to move about the roads just the same as any other day. My workplaces have never designated a “snow-day” and the schools in town rarely ever do anymore… it’s as if it has come to pass that a snow event should no longer even be an event after all! Just carry on as if nothing’s wrong; that is, unless you are a snow-plow driver. Then you’ll need all the luck you can get to accomplish your chore, uninterrupted.

It’s no surprise that we got a little dusting overnight. We were well warned of the possibility. That first snow really has a lot of impact. As I remember childhood, there was always a wallop of excitement connected with it. As an adult, I tend to find myself more often surrounded by those who express a lot less appreciation for the onset of our snow season. I still feel the child-like glee over the white stuff.

It was usually the ski bums who displayed the “Think Snow!” buttons or bumper stickers (or custom denim shirts embroidered by their sister), but I never did any downhill skiing. It didn’t matter; I loved everything else about winter and always felt, the more snow, the better. Over the years it has become apparent to me that the primary people who complain about winter, do so because the only experience they have with snow is trying to drive in it or shovel the stuff so they can drive in it.

Get out and play in it like we did when we were kids and you can realize, again, that vital energy of excitement that is unleashed when flakes start falling.