I woke up yesterday at 4:30 a.m. to the sound of my driveway being plowed. At 5:30 my phone binged with texts from my terrific daughter Elisabeth sending me photos of how much snow she and George had to clear out there in Oneida. I got up for good at 6:30, let Ellie B out into the backyard banks and shortly thereafter fielded the texts and news that the library would be opening two hours later than usual.
That news had to go out on our social media. My duty. My boss handled the web site and alerting TV and other news organizations. We got right on that.
We’d actually report to the building two hours later than usual, too.
I needed the time to clear our walks and my car and the parts of the driveway the plow can’t reach.
It was my big winter workout so far.
My next door neighbor was out doing his grounds with his snowblower. He pitched in on the bottom part of my driveway when he was done with his.
I was quite thankful for that help.
We did good, I with shovel and he with machine.
In the back of my mind, I was already wondering how much it was going to snow while I was at work.
Yeah, I’m like that. If it were more than 3 inches, the plow was supposed to come again. Less than 3 inches, I’d drive through it.
At 10 a.m., though, all was clear for my departure for my final work day of the week.