I knew we were supposed to get some snow, so my alarm was set for 4:30 a.m. so I’d have enough time to get to work, plow and clear all the pasture gates early. I was pleasantly surprised when I opened to door to my house and saw only a dusting. Still, I was up so I headed into work.
As I headed north on I271, I began to realize that the farm likely had more snow than I’d gotten in Peninsula. As I made my final approach to the service drive on a road that hadn’t been plowed in the last couple of hours, I noticed the mound blocking my entrance. I got out of my low-riding Toyota Camry and realized I’d never make it through the foot that had fallen in Geauga County.
I followed one of the barn staff into the main parking lot. She had a truck and cut a nice swath for me to follow. From there, it was all downhill. I began shoveling out pasture gates of the heavy, wet snow that had drifted to two feet in some places. I was sweating at least, so the workout had begun.
It lasted five hours. Completely exhausted by noon, I looked for something I could do from a chair with my brain. I made some calls to contractors I needed for several projects we would be doing over the summer. Recovered after lunch, I did several more outdoor chores before heading for Jason’s place where I would be helping him pick up a new and heavy dining room table to move in and an old one to move out. I got to his driveway ahead of him and found the bottom plowed in and half the drive unshoveled. That just wouldn’t do so I spent thirty minutes cleaning it out.
“I’ve got a snow blower, dad, so why did you shovel?” he asked when he arrived.
“I like to shovel,” I said.
He looked at me like I was disturbed. Ah well…maybe I am.
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