No grudges

You came, you made me anxious looking through the window, watching you deepen and swirl menacingly. You made me* dig, shovel and blow, swear, tired me out, nearly wrecked my wrists (again) and yet, how can I hate you when you sparkle like this? You take my breath away.

I stood at the end of my driveway this morning, having just cleared it and watched the monstrous street plow turn in to start his first pass on our side. For about three minutes I stared him down, then he slowly started to creep up the street. I stayed put, he stopped again, sat for a minute, then moved with a little more urgency. This was my Tiananmen Square and I was that tank guy. Then I realized I was holding up the whole street and I moved. The wall he left me was blipworthy. It was swear worthy. I swore. I called him some unsavory names and then I cleared it, chunk by chunk, like a good citizen.

I hold no grudges.


*I do mean we - eleven inches of wet and heavy (with a creme brulee crust of ice) no match for us when we take turns and don't overdo it. And tomorrow we do it again, this time only four inches.