Most of thirty years ago Dad announced that he had had enough. Nevermore would he shovel. Both of us boys had moved beyond the point where we would shovel his drive and December that year was intolerable.
He went out after Christmas and bought a big honking snowblower. It was big and orange and hard to start but, by God, it moved some snow. It was a man's snowblower, loud and hard to maneuver, made to handle a foot or more of Mother Nature's worst.
Needless to say, it hardly snowed at all the rest of that winter. TV weathermen remarked on the unusual dryness of the first three months of that year.
Justin and I bought a snow thrower at Home Depot last Sunday and I told him the story of his grandfather's machine. He remembered his Uncle Steve having the snowblower until it finally gave up the ghost of Blizzards Past. We laughed about how we were saving Wisconsin from a snowy winter by buying a machine to clear my drive.
Um, we were wrong. It's snowing hard outside after a full day of snowing hard. There is little danger of my having wrecked a White Christmas for the little kiddies. The snow thrower works well and it's more than enough machine for my needs. Unfortunately, it's small and cute while my neighbor's is big and snarly.
I'm sure that Dad laughed today every time I turned the chute into the wind. It was a good thought that made dealing with the snow almost tolerable.