The Morning After

Despite the heavy snowfall of the last couple of days, the day began with moderately cold temperatures and cerulean skies. Blinding sun bounced off a snow pack 7 inches deep. I know because I measured it. I love snow on sunny days and I went out just for a short time but was content to enjoy the glaring beauty from the warmth of my den.

One look at the drive though, and I knew that I would not be leaving anytime soon. My drive is maybe 75 feet and the snow that covered it was just as deep as the rest of the yard. My car would not be able to clear the snow enough to attempt to make ruts to reach the street. I've been stuck in this drive and in the street about half a dozen times over the years. None of them were a picnic and the last three times, I had no one to help me resolve the problem.

I've had a problem walking for a week now. I think a joint in the ball of my foot is inflamed. I have this red circle just behind my toes, in the center of the pad of my foot, that is so sore I can't touch it with my finger. Walking is not fun. I know I've been on my feet more with Mike's problem. I've tried to do things to help it but nothing I've done has resolved the problem. I dare not go on another course of steroids this soon. However, it doesn't matter. I picked up my shovel and raised the garage door.

I've lived in this town since 1988 and I've never had a single person offer to help us with anything, really, not a single person. I've had many people ask for help but none ever offered it. Since Jerry died, no one has ever asked me if I needed help with any thing. Admittedly, there are some folks I wouldn't expect to offer but gee whiz you'd think in nearly 30 yrs there'd have been one. Nope. If it weren't for Mike, there would have been many times I'd have been in serious trouble. There were times when he couldn't help either and I was in trouble. At the moment, Mike is laid up with a badly broken leg. So, today the job of shoveling is mine alone. 

I started by kicking two trails to the street in the areas I thought the wheels would go. Then, I got my shovel and started digging trenches in those areas, first one side, then the other. Next, I cleared the section between the ruts, every few feet. I'm eternally grateful that this snowfall was a "dry" snow. It was light and airy and useless for snowmen and snowball fights but much easier to shovel as a result because it doesn't stick together. 

Every time I have to shovel snow I remember that my husband died as a result of shoveling snow. When she saw me shoveling, Sarah tried to help me with a regular square point shovel but it was too heavy for her. Face it, 7 inches of snow is still a lot of snow, no matter how airy it is. 

She took her toboggan to the hill in front of the house, near the the street. When I was about two thirds along the drive when she stopped, turned to stare at me, and shock tinged her voice. "Mawmaw, are you praying?"

I kept digging. "Yes." 

She watched me a few minutes before she went back to playing. 

Eventually, after several stops to prevent my back from seizing up, I reached the street. I turned to study the results. I cleared 7 inches of snow from an area roughly 750 feet. When I looked out a few moments ago, I was pleased to see my assumptions were correct. The thin layer of snow left behind by my efforts is now melted and my drive is passable, I think. If I traverse it slowly I may not get stuck in the mud. If I do, I know where my shovel is... or it can sit there till spring.