By shoveling snow, I invent sunlight. It arrives just as I finish scraping away. I could like this job, I say to the first possible bird. I could let this grow on me.
Shoveling snow. It ain't no raking leaves, that's for sure. I used to like it in a Tolstoy-scything-with-the-peasants kind of way, but no more. It hurts. Or my aging coil protests too much afterward, at least.
I hope Mom arrives safely (or arrived safely). New England FINALLY is getting a touch of the European treatment today and overnight -- 16 to 20 inches predicted. How Currier. How Ives.
And a Merry Second Day of Christmas to all. (We don't do Boxing Day here because we never could afford servants anyway.)
3 comments:
Merry snowy Christmas.
Shoveling snow. It ain't no raking leaves, that's for sure. I used to like it in a Tolstoy-scything-with-the-peasants kind of way, but no more. It hurts. Or my aging coil protests too much afterward, at least.
I hope Mom arrives safely (or arrived safely). New England FINALLY is getting a touch of the European treatment today and overnight -- 16 to 20 inches predicted. How Currier. How Ives.
And a Merry Second Day of Christmas to all. (We don't do Boxing Day here because we never could afford servants anyway.)
Lots of shoveling here, too.
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