Thoughts while shoveling snow

Looking out the window: why did I think I couldn't afford a Caribbean vacation this year? Why didn't I give a case of Christmas Ale to that friend who has a pickup with a plow? Why did I bother to have a son if he's never home? 

At least I had the foresight to buy a snow thrower with an electric start. And fill the gas can last week. Even if it won't eat through that salt-hardened two-foot drift on my double-wide driveway apron.

Layers. And layers. Wool socks. Long underwear. The weather channel says it's 10 degrees but feels like minus-5. Do I really need to go anywhere? Other than St. Somewhere? 

Let the snow blower-thrower warm up while I clear the steps. Doesn't start. Even with more gas. Probably flooded: let it sit. 

If the neighborhood is full of women shoveling snow, why are we so concerned about men having heart attacks? 

Pure as the driven snow ... Pure what? 

Do kids who grow up on the Great Plains become wind engineers? Look at those lovely swoops around the bushes. The snow was worse in Iowa. No it wasn't: Dad cleared it all. With a tractor. That started when it was minus-20, thermometer not wind chill. 

Still nothing. Wish my son were home to bring my frozen fingers a hot cup of cocoa. Better yet: I could bring him one. 

Shovel south, or the wind will drift it back where it was. Corollary: pay attention to the new wind breaks you're building. 

De-layer! Sweat is the enemy of warmth. Overheating is unhealthy. Can I get heat stroke in winter? Will my underwear pass for a bikini? Why am I not on an island clutching a boat drink? 

Darwin Awards are born when heavy labor starves the brain of oxygen. Do NOT try to warm the snow blower starter with a candle. Do NOT start the car and close the garage door. 

Kleenex. Why are there no Kleenex in the car? Or hair ties? Or cocoa? That's it! Break time. 

Will the mail carrier still carry mail if I don't clear the walk? Do I care about grocery store ads? No, but what about that cozy new nightgown that's on its way today? Buck up and layer on! 

Easy does it. Pretend you're shoveling corn. Or mulch. You're in it for the long haul, not slipped disks. Another reason we still need the Equal Rights Amendment: there's no Workman's Comp for home labor. And will you just look at all these women risking heart attacks! 

Here comes a man, doing the tough job of driving the plow. Must write a note to the Service Department, thanking them for clear streets, long hours, and ... and this two-foot pile at the end of my double-wide driveway. Corollary: if you live on the east side of a north-south street, shovel north if you want to think of the snow plow as your friend. 

Almost ... done ... time to shower up and go somewhere. Maybe the sauna, perhaps the whirlpool, why not the airport? Go wild, girl! Do it all! If the car starts.