Shoveling, Shoveling Through The Snow!

 “Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this son of York; and all the clouds that low’r’d upon our house, in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.” ~ William Shakespeare, in “Richard The Third”.

I had every intention of writing an incredible blog about pizza. I could envision the article, which would extol the virtues of said pizza slice, all hot and gooey and dripping with a little bit of oil that pooled itself on the paper plate beneath. I so wanted to discuss it, partly because a friend had offered that he would read my blog if I wrote about pizza, and partly because, as a gluten-free/dairy-free vegan, I have been craving it of late, and truly wished to relive old memories.

When I sat down at my computer to bang out a story this week, I began perusing Facebook, only to find out that a media legend, as well as a phenomenal actor, had passed away suddenly. Their passing left an indelible mark upon my soul, which added to a funk that caused me to abandon the idea of writing about pizza. I wanted to write about each of these memorable personalities, but words were difficult to come by, and I abandoned that idea as well.

Instead, I sat in front of my computer with the hopes that an article would present itself. Every idea that I had was quickly dashed, as my fuzzy brain could not come up with more than a few sentences.

And then, a flash of light…white light.

Oh, wait, that was when I opened the front blinds and found eight inches of cold, heavy snow upon my front lawn, where grass was seen only one day before. The white of it was blinding.

The thought of having to go outside to shovel was daunting. Just as many of you have been shoveling, I have picked up shovel and broom and have swept away the fine powder from previous storms of this season. White powdery snow I can handle. Heavy, wet slush is another story.

Prior to yesterday’s snow/icefest, I found the last snowstorm had left us with denser snow. Perfect for packing, my mind wandered to a simpler time, when I was thrust outside by my weary mother, who suggested snowman making, that she could rest from her two hours of digging out. I thought of this as my shovel left indentations in the snow, and began to wonder if this season was ever going to end. By nightfall, the cold temperatures took all of the moisture out of the heavy snow, leaving behind a crunchy variety that would not pack. Yes, it was easier to shovel, but after an hour and a half of pushing the wetness against the piles that had not yet melted in this weekend’s balmy temperatures, I could care less about moving any more snow, much less making a happy snowman.

Today’s snow was actually slush. Since my daughter was home from school due to a “snow day”, we ventured outdoors, shovels in hand, under the impression that, since there was only about two inches of the dreaded white stuff on the ground, the task would go rather quickly.

We couldn’t be more wrong.

Have you ever attempted to move water with a shovel? That’s pretty much what shoveling this mess felt like to me. Several times, I felt myself lose balance, because that amount of heavy stuff made shoveling a basic nightmare. This was heart attack snow, so I took my time, and I was incredibly grateful for the assistance of my eighteen year old daughter and my neighbor, who pitched in to help with my driveway.

The snow didn’t move very well in a snowblower, either, as I witnessed from neighbors. My husband said that slush would only serve to clog the machine, so when I found my daughter in the garage, with the intent of starting up that bad boy, I told her that it was a “no” to that idea. We trudged on, for two hours, and cleared away as much of the mess as we possibly could. I almost cried when the plows came through, as the apron that I had toiled over was now filled with a greyish brown mess.

Although the snow was slushy, the ice beaneath was still compacted onto the cement, so we took out an ice shovel and began to chip away at the chunks. I had to ditch my “perfectionist” mentality, because I was clearly running out of steam, and so was my daughter.

“Winter of our discontent” is an understatement.

While it’s true that we’ve been rather spoiled, here on Long Island, with milder than usual temperatures during the winter months, I’d take a mild winter any day. Current temperatures are what the norm is for our Island, but it seems like Mother Nature is really upset with us for something, since there have been constant onslaughts of storms over the past few weeks. I’m pretty sure that it’s safe to say that most of the Island’s populous is “winter weary”.

We’re expecting more of the white stuff this coming weekend; I spoke with one of my neighbors, during one of my shoveling breaks. She informed me that she is basically "done" with this winter. Yes, Mother Nature, stick me with a fork, too, because I'm overdone.

Actually, if we’re going to have more snow, I’d be so happy to have the powdery stuff back, in exchange for ice and slush. At least with the powder, it was able to be moved with a push broom. This stuff? Not so much. Although I do have to say that cleaning the car was a lot easier this time around; large chunks of ice and snow fell off of the car with a splat, which left the car a whole lot cleaner, a whole lot faster.

I took a break earlier from shoveling, and grabbed a bottled water from the fridge in the garage. It was a bottle of Fiji artisan water, and I can assure you that the water, nor the pretty picture on the outside of the bottle, conjured up visions of lounging on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific. It actually served to cause me to wish that summer were tomorrow.

If I get a hold of the groundhog that made the prediction for an early spring, I’m going to be sure to have a few choice words for him. He lied.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to watch snowflakes as they flutter to the ground. New fallen snow is breathtaking to behold in the moonlight; the icy flakes shine like diamonds. At my age, I still enjoy catching the flakes on my tongue with my daughter. And I do enjoy building a snowman. I just don’t love shoveling water. And neither does my back. I’m sure a lot of you are in agreement.

I’m sure Mother Nature still loves us, even though she seems to be having a perpetual bad day. I just wish she didn’t love us quite so much, with all of this snow that she keeps dumping on Long Island.

On a more serious note, please – take care when shoveling out there, because winter is far from over. Very heavy snow is no joke. More people injure themselves, sometimes seriously, by trying to take on more than they can physically handle. Ask for help. Hire one of those kids that you see, walking your neighborhood with a shovel slung over his or her shoulder. Take frequent rest breaks. I’ve even seen people driving through the neighborhoods with snow blowers in the back of their vehicles. Call them over, if you can. Sometimes, especially during a snowfall of this type, a little money spent is well worth it.

As for me, I’m going to sleep well tonight, with visions of Florida dancing in my head.