- I’m glad the snow is not sticking to the ground and mounding up to my neck.
- I still remember the last time I shoveled snow. The following is what had transpired.
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- Thick layers of snow encompassed the driveway and instantly I sighed. Why did I have to look out the window, I thought to myself
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- Considering I was working nights anyway, it was time to shovel. After putting on my long johns, double layer winter socks, a pair of work jeans, a T-shirt, a sweater, my Irish revolutionary leather jacket, a pair of snow boots, and pair of Isotoner gloves, a thick winter hat, and a scarf around my neck- I discovered I couldn’t move. Just kidding!
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- After getting the shovel, I face the vengeance of each winter god.
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- When I closed the door, I heard something rumble. I thought someone was having car trouble so, I looked to my left.
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- There was nothing there. At least there was nothing visible; the wind was not too heavy, but it was nonetheless a little blinding. So without giving the noise any more thought, I resumed shoveling the front yard porch.
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- Minutes went by… Before long, half of the driveway was completed. I’m the type that shovels in systematic vertical lines. Trust me- it’s more productive and you also get some exercise to boot. What’s there not to like?
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- That is not to say I was having a picnic. My arms were getting sore, so I stopped for a breather.
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- Then the rumbling had returned. Odd, I thought. For some reason, I thought it might be my stomach. I did have four slices of French Toast- a breakfast certainly not recommended by the Surgeon General. I’m 30 years old and these pleasures will haunt me eventually.
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- So I touched my stomach. I did feel pain. Therefore, I couldn’t be my stomach.
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- Then it came again. This time around, the rumble was much louder. So before making any assumptions, I looked in all directions. I saw nothing. I heard all- but I saw nothing.
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- BOOM!
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- To Be Continued….
