Snow Job

I woke up this morning to the biggest snowfall in years. It had been snowing yesterday already. It was wet and heavy. We had gone out periodically and cleared the driveway. And it was alright when we went to bed. Overnight, though, the light, fluffy stuff really accumulated. I hadn’t seen it like this in decades. I remember, back in the early sixties we used to get snows like this. I remember one time my father and I were out there at the crack of dawn shoveling furiously. We had to get it done because we had tickets on a flight out of Newark to the Caribbean in the early afternoon.

There has been only one time since when we had this much snow. I remember there were a couple of days in a row they’d closed the shop because of snow and severe icing. This was unusual nevertheless. The company I worked for at the time had people working even on Christmas. I got up on the third morning and was met by quite a sight. The snow was back up to between my knees and my waist. My muscles were still aching from the previous day’s work. And now, all I had previously done had simply vanished; blown over; buried. I felt dejected and desperate. I could not imagine getting to work ever again. (Too many absences in a row tended to count against you.)

Not only was there three plus feet of snow on the ground, there were also several trees that had lost their branches, some of which were now blocking the driveway. I tried to drag them aside, but they were hard frozen to the ground. I went back inside and called my boss. He wasn’t too happy and offered to send someone over to pick me up. It turned out to be only a temporary fix, as you can well imagine.

Today it seems like the same kind of snow all over again – the kind that even outdoor cats generally want no part of. So, you have to physically heave them out into the white powder, otherwise, they’d happily just stay in the house ‘til spring. Poosa, the pink-nosed tabby we had at one time, would sink to the bottom and stay there. After a while, you begin to get worried and start digging for her. And there she was, ears held flat, looking terribly embarrassed. She’d been doing her business like a good girl. We never kept a litter box in the house.

Today, it was easier. We no longer have a cat and my son came to help me. Together, we got it done – even though our shovels had practically disintegrated during what can now be described (meteorologically) as having been quite an active winter season.
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Note: This article was written last winter. Yesterday it happened again (to kick off the season, I suppose. This time there were three of us to shovel. My brother was here as well. I must say, the three of us had fun.

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com