By Ken DeLaat
It’s just not funny anymore.
And it has to stop.
Sunday my snowblower was jammed into the corner of the garage with all the care from one who seems to believe that somehow it will never be needed again of course. Extrication proved tricky. It had quickly become buried under tarps and various utensils one often finds in garages but rarely sees in use. Those varied items that tend to find themselves there by virtue of the statement “Just put it in the corner, I’ll take care of it later.”
By the time the blower was freed, some gas was located and an extension cord found that required some serious untangling and then plugged in to start there appeared to be an additional foot of the crud in a wet and heavy incarnation.
Despite a great deal of slipping and sliding a partial path was accomplished and shoveling the rock-heavy crap was required as well. Then the substantial mountain of snow on the vehicle we park outside (mine) was broomed off.
Normally during the winter months I really don’t mind shoveling. Especially the part about being outside on a starlit cold night with some fluffy stuff requiring a bit of a push to the side. When completed there’s that sense of accomplishment that comes with dusting off those small tasks.
This was different.
It was a Sunday afternoon in April for pity’s sake. Palm Sunday at that. A day when we should have been walking around the yard enjoying the new sprouts emerging with a promise of a floral future. Perhaps climb aboard the pontoon for a little early spring boat ride.
Instead the budding beauties were buried under an avalanche of cold white intruders and the dock looked like a frozen slip and slide.
And any personal sense of good humor about it has long since departed.
I know I’ve made snide remarks about Old Man Winter and perhaps there was a little ‘Nyah, Nyah, Nyah’ a week or so ago when it looked like he had departed for good.
Then he blows back in. Like the long overdue for departure house guest who comes back for a forgotten toothbrush and stays another day.
So here’s a message to OMW
We’re done. We give. You win. Yes, you can arrive any time you want and put a stop to Spring. Very impressive.
Now, please, get along with you.
We’ve all got things to do, you know.