I think it's possible that shoveling snow is my least favorite activity right now. We got another storm, which dropped about ten inches of the cold, fluffy stuff on us. The fluffy stuff is not very hard to deal with, even though my snow thrower has on flat tire.
But with these deep snows comes the ice and dirt that the town plows throw into the end of the driveway. If I'm lucky, the plow pile come before I start to shovel, and only accounts for the last eighteen inches or so between our house and the road.
If I'm unlucky, and I often am, the plow comes after we've done the shoveling, and launches a pile that reaches back five or more feet into the drive. It takes a very long time to get through that; most of it my snow thrower won't handle at the best of times.
Fortunately, no one has to go out early tomorrow; Karen has the day off, Tom doesn't go to work until late afternoon, and Danny has an after-school club. We're going to pick up William and let him do some swimming and spend some time in the library before we pick up Danny.
If it isn't snowing too much. It might snow tomorrow afternoon. Again.
But there are only 31 days until Spring.
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