Drifter

A sore back is the price of learning lessons.

New Year's Eve Cape Breton was hit with a mighty blizzard. The winds beat at the windows. The lights flickered threateningly. The fire roared.

Afterward we emerged to assess the damage. A few branches down, trees are more resilient than buildings perhaps. Or maybe they know when to shed dead weight. Apart from those observations, the car, my cursed lifeline, was buried up to the windows in snow.

Over the course of a day, we took shifts and dug out the entire driveway. Not a small job, it's probably a couple hundred feet long. But we were free. We had done it. We went out to a postponed New Year's party in Brook Village.

Then the snow blew again that night after our return. What's a little blowing snow? Happy to forget the car, we spent a day around the fire having some friends over for a meal. I didn't think when I saw them trudging up the drive.

Then this morning we left to run out to pay our taxes and insurance (shudder!) and were faced with a return of the mighty white barrier. The whole driveway was filled in with snow.

Let this be a lesson, young Mentat. Park the car at the bottom of the drive when a storm is coming or even when it is blowing out. The walk is nothing compared to the alternative. Another few hours of angry shoveling later, I'm ready for my sore back tomorrow. Also we should bend our knees when shoveling--something you don't think of as a child digging your mum out in the morning.