The first snow of the season. Earlier this week, some of the higher elevations around here got a decent first snow, but the valley where the city lays makes for noticeable differences.
Don't expect me to blog all lyrical and Romantic about snow. I don't like winter at all. In the closing chapters of Watership Down, Richard Adams inserts a brief narration on winter. I don't know the exact text , but it goes something like this: "Some men say they like winter, but what they really are saying is they like the ability to combat it. With their coats, fireplaces, and woodlots, they can endure the season and find some enjoyment. But for animals, as for poor men, it is a harsh season when existence is the act of just surviving."
Sorry that I don't have the direct quote, but that thought sums up why I don't enjoy the winter season.
However, winter presents me with an interesting Catch-22. While I dislike winter as much as others longingly await the crunch of hoar frost under their new boots, I love the shovel snow.
Seriously, I LOVE TO SHOVEL SNOW. Just decimate the crap out of it! Carve out islands of non-slippery safety amongst all the white the neighbors have let accumulate. I make games out of it, dreaming up scenarios Walter Mitty or, better yet, Snoopy* style. Imagine it:
First Panel: "Here comes the world-famous snow shoveler."
Second Panel: Digging into the snow, a mound of the stuff already piled behind him, "He has to clear the path for the Colonial Militia! They need those cannons to take Fort Ticonderoga!"
Third Panel: Exasperated and leaning against the handle of the shovel. "It's just practice for Valley Forge!"
I worked for about a year and a half during college as a janitor. Well, Facilities Attendant, actually. It is a neat little euphemism that means you just don't clean toilets, you shovel snow! The sidewalk is a part of the facility, you see. Because it was a residential college, the administration wanted to make sure that every sidewalk and road was plowed. Last thing they wanted was for some kid to slip on the umpteen stairwells on the IC campus and have his or her parents sue the school. There was a joke that circulated amongst all the Physical Plant staff that went, "On the campus you really don't drive through snow, but through slush." Well, that sounds like a motto to live by! I had this "scorched earth" policy to clearing away snow. I used a lot of salt and pulled a muscle the first time I cleared the little dip between Terrace 3 and Terrace 4. When I worked as a barista, we had to clear the snow from the front of the store while on shift. The customers appreciate the plowed strip of sidewalk welcoming them for espresso and brewed coffee. Of course, I, once again, went nuts with the salt to the boss's and our petty cash fund's, dismay. One of these days, I will match when snow shoveling zeal with the appropriate amount of salt. Until then, I appreciated your patience, guys.
Why do I enjoy it so much? Everyone else hates it. It's a chore. Why love a chore!?
Maybe it's because I never grew up with snow, being from PR . Or because I am "selectively compulsive" freaking about having to get that snowed cleared. I do feel a nice sense of accomplishment after I am done with the snow and it does make me feel good. People appreciate plowed sidewalks and roads, and I appreciate their silent thanks. If you need some snow shoveling in and around the West Hill then contact me or look for the cleanest patch of asphalt in town!
Peace!
*I just finished reading a wonderful book called Schulz and Peanuts: A Biography by David Michaelis. Hence, the Snoopy reference. Amazing book about the iconic strip and the conflicted man behind it. I'm also reading Jimmy Carter's The Hornet's Nest which is about the American Revolutionary in the South. Hence, the Ticonderoga reference. Hey, it's a liberal arts blog.
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