Scrape, thud. Scrape, thud. Scrape, thud.

I shoveled snow for the first time in my life yesterday afternoon, and it was fun! It snowed on Sunday and most of the morning on Monday; our neighbors shoveled their driveway and walkways on Monday morning.

Shoveling snow was always my dad and brothers' job when I was growing up, and since moving out of my parent's house, I had allowed my landlords to take over that responsibility. Now that Jeremy and I are proud home-owners, there's no one else to hand the shovel to, and with Jeremy working at night and sleeping during the day, I'm left looking in the mirror and wondering why do we shovel snow anyway? Can't we just drive and walk on top of it?

So yesterday, a full day after the snow-fall, I decided that someone had better shovel our driveway...especially since the snowplow came through and along the far end of our driveway created a mountain of snow that my car refuses to hurdle. All morning at work, I anticipated shoveling. I went to Dollar General and bought a snow shovel (only $5.00!). As I drove through town, I examined the various shoveling techniques displayed by the townsmen. One man employed the scrape-thud method, while his neighbor demonstrated the chop-chop-scrape-thud method. I really enjoyed the snow-blower method, but the start-up costs for that one were way out of my price-range.

I drove home in trepidation. Would I love shoveling? It looks like fun and great exercise, but would it really turn out to be such a wonderful winter activity? Or would it be just a gigantic waste of time with a huge backache thrown in for good measure? All the way home, I prayed that Liberty would fall asleep, so that I could shovel outside. (Kimmie had a game last night, so she was unavailable for babysitting detail.)

My car climbed the mountainous mound of snow donated to our property courtesy of Mr. Snowplow Driver, and I parked in the garage. Wonder of wonders, Liberty was already asleep, so I carried her to bed and piled her with blankets. I asked God to please keep her asleep for at least an hour and a half (that's how long it would be until dark), and I headed outside.

Shoveling turned out to be really fun! The scrape, thud sounds were pleasantly reminiscent of home, and my mind easily turned to memories of watching from the window while my dad shoveled outside. I wonder if he was ever lonely, or if he enjoyed clearing the snow as much as I did? It was actually fun to see progress as I shoveled. The clean cement appeared after every scrape, and mounds of snow grew higher at the sides of our driveway. During patches of thick ice, I got to use the chop-chop-scrape-thud routine that I had witnessed, and it was really cool! The snow had packed down well from being driven on, so it broke into Titanic-sized icebergs at the introduction of my shovel.

By the time the sun disappeared, I had half of the driveway done. I gazed with satisfaction on the half-scraped cement then went inside for vegetable soup and a sandwich. Liberty was just waking up. God is very good, you know?