I am reminded once again, why I hate winter time.
The forecast called for 6+ inches of snow for today. While slightly disgruntled at the thought, I didn't worry too much. The husband and I have a deal: I mow in the summertime, he snowblows the driveway in the winter. I kept my end of the bargain and I was comforted with the thought that he would keep his.
The snow ended around 4pm and indeed we got the 6+ inches they had called for, just with another 6 inches on top. A foot of soft powdery snow. Thank Bob it was the light dry kind, or else I would not be here typing this as I thaw out. If it were the wet, heavy snow, I would probably be out there until midnight.
Cheerfully, I wave my husband out the door, donned in his best snow gear to face the elements: he's wrapped up snuggly in his hat, scarf, gloves, longjohns covered over by jeans and sneakers. He grumbles something but it's incoherent by the scarf snuggled tight wround his neck and mouth. I'm sure it was " I love you" or something like that. Although the look I got from him was more of a glare then a passionate goodbye. I was sure I was imagining things. He left through the garage door to start up our greatest machine ever; the snowblower. If you live in the foothills of the mountains this is a must have!!!! No house can go without it, unless you have Herculean strength and the stamina of 4 men. We get snow a lot. It's a basic necessity to living here.
I'm snuggled up with my son on the couch, watching a pre-K show about planes and learning about sonic booms when I hear a boom come from the kitchen. Curious, I look up to see said husband stomping in, his blue eyes icy.
"Babes, did you break the snowblower?"
"Huh?" I reply, confusion clearly on my face.
"I cant get the thing to start."
"I havent touched the thing. That's your job. Did you put gas in it?"
"Yes."
"Oil?"
"Yes."
"Everything else checks out?"
"Yes."
"well.......crap. I guess you're going tohave to shovel then."
More mutterings come from him, but he's rewrapped his scarf over his mouth so again I lose what he says. I wave him off goodbye again and cuddle closer to my son.
Then my concience kicks in. My poor man is out there, all alone, facing an enormous task. Our driveway is quite long and our shovels suck. I feel bad. I mean, it's one thing to know he's out there with our great machine that kicks snow 15 feet into the air and away from where our cars drive. It's another to know he will have to do it manually. I debate with myself for 10 minutes before finally preparingmyself to go outside and be the partner I am. I don my boots and sweatshirt, my scarf, hat and gloes. Im tying my boots on when my son comes over and wants to go too. So I gear him up in his snow suit, mittens, scarf hat and boots and we trundle outside.
The driveway is barely touched. Not that my husband hasn't been doing anything. But there is just so much snow it's hard to make a dent. Sending him a smile I grab a shovel thats half broken, the only one left besides my sons sand shovel, and dig in............
I hate being a nice person sometimes. I still can feel my legs from the chill. My husband is complaining about his back hurting from all the bending and lifting, but if I dont get me some thank you loving tonight, it wont be the only thng he'll be complaining about.
I really hate winter. And fu[/b]ck you snowblower, fu[b]ck you very much.