Yesterday morning I awoke to what sounded like a convoy of trucks going across the bridge over the Connecticut River. It was the wind roaring all around the house. The snow had been coming down all night apparently, and from the sound of that wind, we were having the blizzard that had been predicted.
At first when I looked out the window, I couldn’t see the car, though I knew it was there. We had some major shoveling to do.
|There’s a car in there somewhere…|
David, being the early riser that he is, tried shoveling early in the morning before the wind had died down. It was of no use… the wind was whirling around in a circle and scattering the snow in all directions. So he had to wait.
David did do some shoveling before lunch. Then we had something to eat, and we both headed out. I took it upon myself to clear off the porch, steps, and sidewalk first. I estimated that it took 400 shovels full to clear the sidewalk. (I counted how many it took to clear just one section of sidewalk and then multiplied it by the 8 sections.)
Meanwhile, David was shoveling the mouth of the driveway, where the snowplow had left quite a bank. He was having to lift the snow to height of his shoulder.
|You can barely see David on the other side of the snowbank|
There is something really beautiful about a newly fallen snow. This sidewalk had been cleared early in the morning, but it had filled in by several inches by the time we did our shoveling.
|Our little town|
After David shoveled the mouth of the driveway and I had finished the walkway, we still had the driveway to open and the car to dig out.
|More shoveling to do…|
We were getting close to the car, when our neighbor, Keith, from across the street came over and helped us finish shoveling out. It was exactly what we needed, for by then we were plumb tuckered. I had been out there for three and a half hours straight. It was good to come into a warm house have some supper, and go to bed.
Two weeks ago, David and I were on our way back from upstate New York, after dropping Anna off at her parents’ home. It feels like that happened ever so long ago. We have not heard from her, and perhaps we won’t for a while. She may not be allowed to write… and the mail I’m sending may not even make it to Anna. But I will not stop sending her mail, all the same. I want her to know I care, and somehow just by writing and sending letters, I feel like she will get that message. There is more to the story than this, I am sure. We made enough of a connection with Anna that I just cannot imagine that we’ll go through the rest of our lives without hearing from her. I wish her and her family the very best.
Meanwhile, David and I are adjusting to life without Anna. We’ve moved our offices around. My desk is now in the corner of the guest bedroom, where I have a nice view of the intersection and I can watch life happening as I’m writing. David has taken over the office I vacated. And we’ve cleaned up the attic, where eventually we’ll set up a second guest bed. Anna will still have a place to visit or live, should either of these come about.
I want to thank all of you who responded to my last post. Many of your kind and compassionate comments brought tears to my eyes. It was good for my soul to feel such compassion when I needed it so. Note: I did respond to each of you, so if you wrote something to me and you haven’t yet read my reply, please check it out.
Many thanks to all of you for continuing to read my posts and for responding when you do. It makes keeping up this blog well worth it.