This winter is to that point where you have to decide when to go back and shovel while the snow keeps falling. I used to be a proud participant in the clean drive club but I walked away from that membership in favor of the just do enough so no cars get stuck and no one wipes out, club. The city and their sunken sidewalks have ensured that I host a skating rink in the front yard if I completely clean the sidewalk. So even in my squeaky clean days I would leave a coating of safety snow on that section of walkway. So last night I refused to re-clean when we got home and this morning the snow-blowing was easy. But the bottom where the evil plow kept dumping really pissed me off.

I am also trying to use as little salt as possible this year and the bottom of the drive will get none. I might have become a little overzealous in past years and the aforementioned skating rink would turn into my own version of the not so great salt lake. Dead grass in the shape of a pond indicated the areas where I would have to import earth every year and re-seed. (Hey Captain Hyphen calm down with the dashes already) So it turns out that salting the earth so nothing will grow is a real thing.

I was standing out there for a solid fifteen minutes plotting my attack when an idea struck me. I will do not one single thing. So instead I took a stroll next door to watch the Eastern European indentured servants er workers who I’m sure are completely documented and well paid who live in their own dwellings and wear the same cloths every day because they are pragmatists. I had every intent to take a couple pictures but the not so obvious overseer spotted me looking in the front and barked out some gibberish that made them all vanish. Then he stood in the big window just staring back at me.

I was dressed like and escaped mental patient playing astronaut complete with moon boots and my blowin goggles (phrasing!) so I just stood there waving. No response at all. I could have thrown him off with my internet rope shovel strung over my back but that is a tale for another day as I am tired.

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