We got a solid 8 inches of snow here in the Twin Cities over the weekend.
Bridgette and I were out of town visiting family, but upon our return on Sunday I was forced into the shrill, freezing abandonment that is our driveway to shovel. The shoveling was arduous, my back wrenched and ached, and my nose glistened like the skin of a walleye. Hoisting snow into the air, my shovel and I became as one. With each drive-and-scoop, momentum was built, until I became like big John Henry, shoveling faster than any snowblower could dare dream. Again and again, I took my shovel to the fluffy wintershame and, in doing so, overcame the inexorable progression of our modern age.
What’s that? Big John Henry died in trying to defeat the steam engine? I thought he went on to escape down the Mississippi with Huck Finn on an improvised raft. No? That was somebody else altogether? What was that character’s name?
Oh. That sounds like more of a name for Kevin’s blog.
Anyway, here’s a picture of me taken when I came in from shoveling. Note the otherworldly look in my eyes and how nicely I dressed to do sweaty outdoor chores.
It has been said that the ecstasy of man, once witnessed, can never be forgotten. If that is true, good luck getting that image out of your heads.
Ah, the unity and oneness of being with the snow shovel. You get an A. Metaphysical harmony during the winter seasin is particularly needed.
One of my favorite books in high school was the Mark Twain-Charles Dickens collaboration.
, The Adventures of Huckleberry Wintershame. Didn’t really buy the part where Jim the slave was able to live in relative opulence due to his resemblance to Tom Sawyer, but at least he used his wealth to good purpose before he got trapped in a hole.
So, if you aren’t using your snowblower, can I have it?
i’ve never shoveled snow before, so i am unaware of the shovel/self oneness. however, a long sleeve dress shirt is not what i’d imagine when i pictured you and the snow. thanks for the proper photographic evidence.
I just had this kind of experience. Maine got all the snow you didn’t get. Did you, too, have an intimate experience in the snowbank with your shovel when you were done?
“Did you, too, have an intimate experience in the snowbank with your shovel when you were done?”
Indeed he did. I have made some bad decisions…
(puts gun in mouth, pulls trigger)
I have reaped what I have sown!
Will your shovel suffer jealousy issues when you become one with your lawnmower in a few months or so?
I think Bridgette should write your next Rock TV. Concise writer, punchy, right to the point, descriptive, dramatic…
This is why I live in an apartment. There is snow on the ground when I go to bed, and when I get up, the snow is no longer on the pavement. I am not sure exactly how this happens, I suspect magic or elves.
Or magic elves!
No, that would be weird and unnatural.