I love viewing the snow coming down in huge flakes, and the fine snow that if it were rain would require the building of an ark. Slowly it covers the ground, hides the flaws beneath, and continues, layer upon layer, to create a breathtaking scene.
T'would be nice to just stay inside a nice warm home and look out at the phenomenon of winter. But, reality rears an ugly head. One must dig out of the pristine blanket. Heavy, wet, snow defies the snow blower, requiring the use of old-fashioned snow shovel and muscle. That's where I come in, since hubby is not physically able to help. I did purchase a pair of heavy snow boots prior to the first big snow...thank goodness. They weigh a ton, but they are so warm and keep my feet dry. I feel like I'm walking on the moon...pick one weighted foot up and slam it down. Do the same with the other foot and you've made about 12 inches of progress. I'm sure I look like a displaced snow creature when I go out to shovel. Big boots, long tan faux-suede faux-fur lined coat, matching furry hat (which hides my face), and unfortunately the only gloves I have--leather driving gloves.
The last time I braved the beast, I had to thaw my fingers slowly in cold water. Hubby kept adding a bit of hot every few minutes until I could tolerate luke-warm water. Once the pain had left my fingers, all I could feel was the knifing pain in my back. Two ibuprofen and twenty minutes flat on my back took care of that.
Now, as I stare out my window at the snow slowly piling up, I'm amazed at how something so beautiful can also be such a beast.
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