Unless you live on the west coast, you know that this winter has been too long, too cold and plagued by that stinging, feathery annoyance we call snow. It snarled traffic, filled your boots, and gave those snotty little kids too many snow days. Yuck!
But because I don’t have to traverse the frozen tundra as much as I used to, I spend more time out in the driveway, learning the deep secrets of this seasonal intruder. It’s gotten to the point that people will now seek out my wisdom and advice when it comes to snow removal. At least, that’s what I choose to believe.
“Oh great snow guru, I seek your deep understanding on a pressing matter. My driveway fills with white cold stuffs from the heavens and I know not how to deal with it. Can you help, oh great one?”
“Listen to my words, child. The great tides float all boats. Be not the first boat to rise…”
“I’m so sorry great Guru, but I have no idea what that means.”
“It means, let your neighbour clear his driveway first, because he might have sympathy on you and clear yours, saving you from doing it. Now go.”
“Thank you, oh master of the snow!”
A big furry hat completes my ensemble. It is my crown. My head dress. It tells the neighbourhood that I must know what I’m doing, because I look ridiculous in it!
Another frigid soul approaches….
“My great and powerful snow guru, I hear it will snow and then turn to freezing rain later. Should I go ahead and shovel?”
“My dear child; ‘snow before rain is a pain – snow before ice is nice.'”
“Oh…..I see…..so, should I shovel or not?”
“NO! If you shovel now, the ice will collect on the ground and you will have a skating rink in the morning. If you leave the snow, it will hold the ice on top and form a crust that will be easy to remove without using any salt. Now begone, for I seek solitude…and another beer.”
Often, they don’t actually ask the questions as much as silently imply that I should come over and tell them what to do. So I continue to dispense lessons in all that is winter to my cold and hungry pupils, even when they avoid eye contact and shoo their kids away, mumbling something about ‘stranger-danger’.
I serve the greater good in this frigid, desolate place, imparting deep wisdom and sage advice upon the great unknowing masses. It’s a gift that I must share…
I think I’ve lost my mind….
please make this damn winter stop!