I have always loved snow. I love the way it looks when it drifts down from the sky; I have watched it through half iced over windows, drifting down through the overhead lights at a city bus stop, blowing over my face while I shoveled, loved the crunch under my feet in my big "Moon boots", the taste of it on my tongue, and once in a while was able to pick out the true shape of individual snowflakes on the sleeve of my coat.
So many special moments are remembered because of their tie to snow. Breaking into the house when I was little to get my baby sister warmed up and make her a hot chocolate after school. I guess Mom's bus was delayed and she was late coming back from her Friday shopping trip! The winter of the "Red Racer" when Dad built a sled from metal tubing and we proceeded to take our lives into our hands - and in my brother's case his kneecap! - to race past everyone on any hill that could be found in the area. Little Mountain where the back of the sled broke off and left myself and "J" to ride down a steep rocky slope with Dad stranded halfway up... Snowmen, and snow forts and snowball fights (and I could occasionally be a deadly accurate shot!).
Later a new house, high school, and shoveling... always shoveling... Christmas lights through a covering blanket of snow. Piled on the roofs of the neighbourhood, and the homes with the least insulation always had the longest icicles. That fast freeze after a snowfall that left a crust of ice on the surface, sparkling like crystals in the sunshine. Unseasonal snows late in the year with big flakes that piled high and then melted fast when the sun came out.
Inner tubing down Mount Seymour - when my dear friend "M" cracked his spine and ended up in a brace for months! Driving through the back parking lot at the PNE and doing donuts in my boyfriend's car...
Later on when I owned my own home there were other snow memories; coming home from work on a snowy day in December to find my husband had FINALLY decided to install that double glazed window in our bedroom, but he was only halfway through the job! Playing with the cats by tossing them gently into a drift and watching them hop around in the powder. Making sure the walkway was shoveled... and since I was the one home most of the time that job seemed to fall on me, but I figured I was strong and healthy enough, and I had the time, so shovel I did. And one snowy November I shoveled the walk with my brand new baby daughter strapped to my chest in her "baby bag", and watched her watch the snowflakes fall on her sweet little face and drift to perch on her soft eyebrows.
There was snow when my two oldest children had chicken pox in February of 1990, great swags of snow draped on the railing of the back deck, and a driveway to shovel while the snowplow blocked my efforts to clear a path for my car! The blizzard of '91 when I devoured an entire Christmas cake while listening to Mozart and watching the snow drift past the window... and getting called into the hospital because my "sugar levels were too high and they were going to monitor me..." I never confessed about the cake, and my son was born two days later... both of us healthy and him in a bit of a hurry to arrive!
The snow in 2008 where I shoveled so much snow... and my oldest son taught me the proper use of driveway salt! There were many times I was tired and sore, aching from childbirth or injury or surgery, and still I shoveled. I remember once thinking "F*CK! How do old people do this?", but I still shoveled. The kids were too small, and later not interested. My partner was working, either on the road or in his shop. And I was resentful and sometimes angry. But is still had to be done.
And now, this snow. What's different is THIS time I shovel for myself and myself alone. I shovel the side walk, the cycle path, the driveway, and a little bit of the neighbour's too. My tenant is in a "delicate" state and I want her safe. My neighbours still have to walk, and the road is not a safe one with no curbs or sideways, so I make sure there is ample space between them and the cars that pass too fast. And I use LIBERAL salt! It's an opportunity to nod and smile at the people of my neighbourhood when they pass, wave at the postman (who always appreciates my efforts), the newspaper carriers, and the buses as they pass by before they stop outside my workplace at the loop... and I know many of those drivers by sight. And once in a while someone will thank me for my efforts. But I am the one who is thankful. I am thankful that I have the health and strength to shovel the snow, and also thankful I still have a driveway to shovel. So this time I laughed with joy as the snow fell, took pride in a job well done, appreciated the ache of strong muscles well used, and slept well that night.
And I still have a few bags of salt in reserve for the next time.... Hot chocolate, anyone?
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