Christmas was good. Boxing Day was fine. In fact, all the way to New Year’s Eve was stupendous. Then I hurt my back shoveling our 5th or 6th foot of snow.
Sometimes my younger neighbour comes over to give me a hand. Last week he said, “It’s going to snow another foot tomorrow and the day after and the day after.” I said, “In other words, what we’re doing is futile.” He said, “No, we just have to keep on top of it.” Ah-huh. This is my 42nd winter in Canada. He, apparently, is a newcomer.
Yesterday, I thought I’d go see the chiropractor, being as it was his first day back at work and I’d been in pain for almost a week. It was snowing. Not polite little snowflakes that waft silently to the ground. No, no, no. Loony-toon snowflakes. Each one the size of my hand and crazy-glued on one side.
I couldn’t run around my car with the ice-scraper fast enough to keep all the windows clear at once. I couldn’t keep even one window clear long enough to jump in my seat and turn the engine over. There’s Canadian-tough and then there’s insanity. This was insanity. I came back inside.
A few hours later the accumulated weight of 3 weeks of snow and ice piled up on the roof started crashing down around the house, blocking every doorway and pathway out of here. So that’s it. Officially snowed in. No chiropractor.
And the fun has hardly begun. Today the temperature is 33 degrees F. That means these gigantic mounds of snow are “melting” and in early January this is the worst kind of joke. There’s zero chance of it actually going away. Mountains and mountains of snow are turning into snow-gumbo. There’s so much water running off the roofs it sounds like it’s raining.
Tonight the temperature will drop below freezing. When we get up tomorrow we will have ice capades like you can’t imagine. Ten foot hills of ice. Cars turned to sculptures. Slush and muck two to three feet deep in the roads frozen solid. We can’t walk in it, we can’t drive in it … god knows, we can’t shovel it.
Don’t we love our computers …