We had a few inches of snow fall Saturday. It wasn't a big deal -- it's just a few inches, nothing I haven't seen before. But I dreaded -- absolutely fucking dreaded -- shoveling it. I just didn't want to start yet another season of hurting my back shoveling that shit. Last winter was the worst in a long time; we obliterated our season average for snow, and I think we wound up with the fifth-highest total in the area ever.
People are predicting a winter not quite the same, but very similar, which means more hours of trying to clear our driveway and trying not to get hurt or frostbitten in the process. I'm too old for this shit.
So imagine my joy when I heard reports before the storm that it will be warm enough to melt. And thank Buddha the weather forecasters were right. Starting really on Monday, the snow that I left on the driveway (Father cleared out some of it at the top of the driveway, from the front door to their car) would go away on its own. This afternoon, it was completely gone, replaced with wetness. In fact, I could only see small patches of icy snow on the front lawn. That should be gone this time tomorrow, when there's a chance we will hit 60 on Thanksgiving Day.
Before I would bemoan the fact that Thanksgiving is so warm. This year, I'll totally take it.
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