Posted by: trevormeers | February 2, 2011

Diary of a Snow Day

A man, his thoughts and 9 inches of wind-driven snow. A recipe for deep reflection…

Breaking a sweat while shoveling in seriously cold weather is begging for fatal hypothermia. And dirty looks at the lunch table.

Why do you taunt me, snowplow? You bring freedom, yet leave it behind the forbidding Great Wall Of Driveway!

If kids’ snowshoes shaped like Bigfoot feet don’t strike you as hilarious, then I suggest that you, friend, are taking life too seriously.

The concept of “I’m working at home” does not compute with 9-year-olds eager to try out snowshoes shaped like Bigfoot feet. And it registers only slightly more with wives enduring the second day with housebound kids.

Standing in our hilltop garden plot and looking 2 miles down the asphalt road, I can see a thin layer of wind-blown snow flowing across like sand. In August from this vantage point, I watched half of the Skunk River flowing over the same spot. Just one of the ever-changing joys of mid-continental climates.

What’s more frustrating in the category of machines prone to chronic breakdowns? Snowblowers or snowmobiles? Since you rarely ride your snowblower 40 miles into the backcountry, I’m going with snowmobile.

Just one time, I’d like to see the Des Moines Director of Public Works go on the local TV news and instead of giving the same old lines about parking bans and hard-working crews, say, “I’ve advised all my drivers to self-destruct their snowplows and flee to the hills with their families. We’re all finished.”

If I put a mannequin wearing a giant foam cowboy hat in our road today, how many hours would it be before any vehicle came along to get freaked out? Five hours and counting…

Teri vetoes Allison and me walking in the backyard for fear we’ll lose our way in the blowing snow and never return. Note to self: Even if it means you have to give up today’s walk, you’ll be saving your future climbing career if you don’t remind her that you summited Rainier in weather worse than this.

How is it that neighbor Lowell is in Florida for the winter and STILL has his driveway cleared before mine? Is there a Fairy Snowblower Godmother that I owe protection money?

If I bundled Katie up and turned her loose in the driveway with a shovel, would our neighbor with a tractor and blade sense the injustice and come clear our whole drive in 3 minutes?

Eskimos reportedly have something like 100 words for snow. For the hard layers that come up in giant sheets with all the driveway grit stuck to the bottom, I propose “gritmukluk.”

X-Games Starter Kit: Vertical ditch face in our front yard.

According to office etiquette, how often should I think up an excuse to send an e-mail to my boss to prove I’m working on really important things in my basement?

12:30 p.m.! UPS truck would’ve won the mannequin contest!

It turns out that sunset throws a gorgeous light on the trees east of the house. And it doesn’t happen until 5:30 today. Just enough light for one more run through the ditch before supper–and maybe a walk through the neighbor’s woods in the Bigfoot snowshoes just to get people talking when they find the tracks.

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Responses

  1. Need I remind you of what happened in the “Children’s Blizzard” of 1888? I should have tied a rope to the house & made you hang onto it.

  2. I just want to on record as saying the whole mannequin thing is very disturbing.


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