I hate snow. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I don't know if there are enough distasteful words in the dictionary to describe how much I hate snow. It wasn't always this way of course. As a child I loved snow, loved playing in the snow, sledding in the snow, making snow angels. Even walking to school in the snow (barefoot and uphill both ways) wasn't too bad. No, I didn't start hating snow until after I had to start shoveling it. Unearthing the car, unearthing the driveway…really not so much fun. My parents didn't get a snow blower until after I left home.
Until we got our house, Brent and I were constantly removing snow from our cars. Thankfully we now have a garage, and only cars are allowed to be in it. Well, cars and some other stuff, but not so much stuff that our cars are out in the driveway getting covered with stupid snow. It saves time, and is much safer to leave the house when you don't have to scrape off your windows and wait for the car to defrost.
We do have a snowblower, albeit an old, small one that we got for free when my grandpa Brimhall died. It's got to be at least 15 years old, but it was free. And until it dies I just can't see springing for a new one. Until recently Brent was gone most of the time, so it seemed pointless to buy a new one when it gets used once or twice a year.
This year I have had to shovel more snow than I have ever wanted to in my entire life. Every time I shovel my back hurts sooner and I do less and less. I'm pretty much at the point where I'd better quit shoveling. The other day I shoveled just enough to get the car out, and then the snow plow put snowman size chunks of snow in the driveway, and I had to remove enough of the snow to get her to school. And of course we ended up being late for school.
I was so mad I started yelling at the snow and kicking it, telling it exactly what I thought. I'm sure the neighbors got quite a show, and were amused by my rant about how I hate snow, winter, Utah, Utah winter weather, snow shovels, and on and on. The snow was very deep and heavy that day. Two days later it got worse, and then it got even worse than that. We have to have close to two feet of snow out there, and of course H is having a ball. As she should. Her job is to play in the snow and have fun, not remove it from the sidewalk and driveway so you can get the car out. Maybe I'll just homeschool her for the winter…
I hate to shovel snow... so I plow it. with my shovel. in 2 inch increments. My husband thinks I must "like" to shovel snow. This is the mindset necessary to not feel overwhelming guilt and pity over the fact that we got 6 inches of snow and miraculously there are clear paths to our cars and dogs and he never left the house. I take my little shovel and push it along, only hefting it when I have to... in small increments - no backaches, just multiple trips to keep up with it. In large increments - I go on strike and wait inside.
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