Measured in feet

You know that old aphorism about trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon?  I think I'd rather try doing that than what I did try doing today.  Especially if it's a warm ocean.  With long white beaches and hot sunshine...

It took me about a half an hour just to uncover that much of the Element.  Our local news station is trying to tell us that our little city only got 14 inches.  14 inches my asters (which with this much snow to move will probably be covered until sometime in August.)  A six year old with a ruler could do a better job measuring the snow.  "Here, Billy go stick this in the snow.  Oh crap, he disappeared.  Must be only 14 inches deep."  Wouldn't it be sweet if we all could be wrong as often as the news and weather people are and still keep our jobs too?

 

I knew when I got up this morning that there was probably no way I'd be able to not have to help some way with snow removal.  So I was getting all psyched up to have to go out and play in the snow when it dawned on me...I have nothing to wear.  I'm not talking like you have a date and look in the closet at 8,000 different dresses and then proclaim you having nothing to wear.  Those 8,000 dresses with matching flats/boots/stilettos are precisely WHY I have nothing to wear.  I have at least five coats.  Not one of them is a parka.  I don't  own a pair of honest to goodness snow boots, and I'm pretty sure trying to shovel (14 inches?) of snow in the leather heeled boots I do have would be like showing up with a knife at a gun fight. 

 

OMG, I'm spoiled!

 

I found a pair of wind pants in the zookeeper's drawer to put over my jeans, borrowed his hat (no, I don't have one of those either), and borrowed my mother's snow boots.  I also zipped on an Army hoodie that used to belong to my brother, wound a scarf around my neck and topped it all off with an ancient wool car coat two sizes too big that was hiding in the back of my closet from my "bigger" days.  Gloves and I'm good to go.  Or so I thought.

 

It isn't like I don't have some idea how to use a snow shovel.  But dear lord, there was just so much of it.  Where to start?  And where to put it?  I got that little spot around the car you see in the picture cleared while the zookeeper went to fire up the snow blower.  Then I had to go inside to warm up because I lost feeling in my fingers.  Have I mentioned I hate to be cold?

 

Next I thought I'd help a bit with the huge pile at the end of the driveway.  So I wade through drifts that come almost to my waist (I have a 29 inch inseam.  14 inches my as..phalt) to get there.  The snow bank is up to my shoulders, and like four or five feet across.  It's a snow mountain, and I'm supposed to move it all with a shovel?  Get real.  Meanwhile the wind is still blowing like a mad bast...like crazy so every scoop I throw comes blowing back in my face, not to mention the spot I'm trying to clear.  My fingers have gone numb again along with half my face, and I'm looking at the piddling progress I'm making trying to figure out if we can just wait for Spring to come and melt it all.  Maybe we'll be trapped with no way out of the driveway.  Maybe we'll starve to death.  Maybe we'll be forced to eat the children after all.  Maybe...

 

I look up and there's the zookeeper.  With a camera.  Laughing at me.  I'm not sure what he saw in my face but I got sent back to the house to warm up again.

 

Half an hour later he finds me uploading pictures and pretty much feeling useless.

 

Him:  "You ready?"

 

Me:  "For what?"

 

Him:  "YOU are going to learn how to use the snow blower."

 

So I may or may not have let it back me up and pin me against the giant snow bank, and I may or may not have accidentally had it set so it was blowing all the snow on me for a little bit.  I definitely did set it so that it blew on the zookeeper and the area he was digging out after about the fifth time being almost fecking knocked off my feet pelted from behind by giant clumps of snow.  I cleared half the driveway before I had to go back in (I really, really can't stand being cold) which isn't much compared to what all the zookeeper did but still.  I ended up not feeling completely ineffective after all.  (Note to the zookeeper.  I swear to God if those videos you took of me clearing the driveway make it to facebook you're gonna find yourself sleeping in the wallaby house.)

 

Moral of the story?  When you can measure the snow in feet it's probably best to leave the snow shovel for chasing alligators.