PUMAS AND A DUSTPAN

Living on the Eastern Shore of Maryland has many delights.  There are some of the most beautiful sunsets here, and the ocean is just a short six mile drive from my house.  We have the best crabs that can be eaten, and if you’ve never had Fisher caramel popcorn or Thrasher Fries, you’ve really missed out. 

I moved here from Ohio.  The region I am from is “The Ohio Valley” much referenced on the Weather Channel.  They get snow from November until about May.  I never got tired of it.  I never wore a coat, but did wear boots, hat, scarf, and gloves.  I still don’t wear coats, but I gave up the boots because there is no need here on the Shore.  We just don’t get snow too often, and when it does fall it is melted within an hour or so.  We did have a nice snow in 96, and again this past weekend.  

I woke up Saturday morning and noticed the skylight above the bed did not show any sky…. It was snowwwww….. Oh the lovely snow!  I hurried downstairs to see if it was still snowing – and was thrilled to see a downfall that my experienced eye just knew would not stop too soon.  I opened the drapes to better view this rare gift.  I smiled to myself as I watched the neighbors prepare for the storm.  

I thought I should go to the store… not to buy water and emergency staples, but coffee and creamer, I was running low.  I arrived at Food Lion and was met by a lady I know who scolded me for not wearing socks or a coat.  Another lady said “aren’t your feet cold?”  Funny, I never notice anyone’s feet. I just politely smiled and said “not really” as I moved along the line.  

All day I could not get away from the window.  I wanted to paint, or sew, but that meant I would have to leave the living room and would not enjoy each snowflake that fell.  In the sewing room I tried to adjust the vertical blinds, but one of them came crashing down.  That’s no good.  So, in the end I sat like the creepy banker in the Jimmy Stewart movie “It’s a wonderful life.”  I sat on my computer chair so I could wheel my fat ass in front of the window and watch the snow getting deeper, and enjoy the neighbors shoveling, shoveling, and shoveling.  They refused to let the snow grow any higher than an inch in their driveways or on their cars.  They were all at it for hours.  

I turned the porch lights on so I could watch the snow when it got dark.  Neighbors were hunkered down in their houses, drapes closed.  I woke up in the night and could not resist a look out to see if it was still snowing… and I was surprised it was.  I thought for a moment maybe it would snow for days and days.  That can’t be… work is Monday.

I woke Sunday morning to the sounds of snow blowers and scraping….they actually murdered the snowfall and reduced it to a wet blanket in their driveways! Unbelievable.  I opened the door and one of my neighbors yelled over “ Bonnie, do you want me to come over with my snow blower?  I can do your car and porch for you.”  Such wonderful neighbors I have.  “No thanks” I called across… “I suppose some kids will be around to make some money shoveling.”  

By late afternoon I realized the youth of today were not going to shovel for money.  Ah, that was Ohio where kids made a few bucks with each snowfall.  I think the kids in my neighborhood must have been really busy playing video games or texting their friends.  

I admit it was about 7pm I began to worry.  Ok, the snow has completely covered the porch, the accumulation on the railing estimated about a foot.  Hmmm, now where in the hell was that shovel we used to take to Assateague?  Maybe I should have bought a pair of wellies after all.  I thought that if I could not dig out, I would call a cab for work on Monday.  Surely by Tuesday it would be melted.    

I ventured into the abandoned ship room.  This is a spare bedroom that I use for storage.  All of the “stuff” Jon and Evan did not take with them is in boxes lined up and down the walls.  My eye caught the over the door shoe holder – and I formulated my plan immediately.  There were about a dozen sneakers for my picking!  I found a pair that looked like it had a smaller opening between the laces and the heel. They were bright red Pumas.  I set them by the front door, with a heavy pair of socks, and gloves.

Not quite morning I woke, put on coffee… and my son’s size 11 red sneakers.     I grabbed the broom and a dust pan.  I went out to begin my dig.  I realized this snow was not going to give in to a puny broom.  I used the dustpan as a knife to cut large squares of snow and that seemed to work best.  I tunneled a patch the exact width of the dust pan from the door, across the porch, down the steps, the length of the driveway from the steps to the car.  I then used the dustpan to remove the heaping snow off the windshield and back window, side window, and door handle.  I did this by the soft glow of the porch lights… no way was I going to do this in daylight.  I had a great fear that if someone saw me they would yell “Hey lady, where’s your cats and shopping cart?”  Even more frightening was the thought of having an accident of some sort and being found sprawled in the snow with only my bozo shoes sticking up and a hand clutching the dustpan. 

After my shower and dress I enjoyed my coffee and was quite pleased with the results of my snow cleanup.  I hardly disturbed the snow; I would let the murdering sun take care of the rest. When I pulled in my driveway Monday evening, my neighbor (the same one who offered to help) yelled, “Hey Bonnie... good job… no more no less….HAHAHAHAHA.” Was that a compliment?  I wonder.

One week later...

Wow… who would have thought we would get another foot of snow again this weekend?   I was not quite as thrilled as last week watching the snow falling.  In fact, I did not open the drapes.  
The snow lay all week, the frigid temperatures not allowing the snowmen to become sad puddles of water.  All week the talk around the office was the weather forecast. People already begun to worry about if it would ruin their Super Bowl plans.  Jesus, what if we lost power (because high winds were predicted) wouldn’t that be a screw? Everyone was giving their guest list a second look to invite that asshole after all – he has his own generator and could bring it instead of beer.  Correction, in addition to beer.

Friday morning a volley of emails began from the Safety Director giving all staff the latest forecast, HR advised everyone take a peek at the Inclement Weather Policies (Yes, Virginia you do need to use PTO if you want to leave early) and back and forth emails from associates who talked to someone who said it was snowing in Salisbury and Lewes.    

It began snowing in the afternoon, and by 4:00 you could tell it was just going to keep going.  I was surprised when I stopped at Family Dollar and Rite Aide and neither store had boots or shovels.  They did have a Super Size Dust Pan though, so I bought it.

I went to bed early because it was too goddamn cold downstairs.  I tossed in a DVD and began watching the latest from my Netflix queue.  I tried to ignore the thumping outside, or was it inside? My imagination easily conjured up large mountain cats running to and fro the attic floor.  I got out of bed to look at the ceiling panel that led to the attic.  It looked as if a child cut out a piece of wood and did his best to fit the space.  I breathed out another wtf sigh and climbed back in bed.  Just about the time Detective Jack Frost was about to throw down the mystery solve, my TV went blank with a WOMP, so did the light, and subsequently the warmth.  I wondered what could be knocking against the house?  

I shuffled across the room to light the kerosene lantern.  Thanks Chantix, no handy lighter.  I crept downstairs and felt my way to the coffee table.  Knocking over a number of items, I finally found the long charcoal lighter.  I lighted candles and the lamp.  I looked outside and did not recognize anything.  This was a wicked night, and the winds were pushing the trees daring them to fall.  The winds and snowstorm bullied the night.  I knew sleep was out of the question, so I layered my clothing and sat drinking a Newcastle and reading H.E. Bates. The light was so dim it was more of a challenge than a pleasure.  I was not in the mood to accept that offer, so slammed the book shut.  

I decided to replay last week and just ignore the need to shovel early and often. I did notice, this time, the neighbors weren’t so visual – in fact, their driveways looked as bad as mine.  HAH! Someone must have observed my pre-dawn adventure last week and thought themselves a fool for staying at the old shovel non-stop for 2 days.

Good news, Sunday no more snowfall, but no chance a glimmer of sun would handle the mucking up.  Yes,  I would just wait again until early morning, and appear again in my Pumas ready with my Dust Pan to begin the day. 

Something wonderful happened later in the day.  I heard a knock at the door, and there standing before me were three men with shovels!  I have noted before to myself that good men often appear as a threesome.  The Three Wisemen, The Three Musketeers, Moe, Larry, and Curly, and my Three Amigos.  One of them did speak English, and I immediately said “Yes, I’ll pay for you to clean my porch, driveway and car.” Just a small section, mind you.  I do not want the entire drive way done, only a path across the deck, down the steps, and the part of the driveway I will need to walk, and yes, do clean off the car completely!  Those guys worked like the Amish Builders my brother hired, or like synchronized swimmers – only with shovels.   I marveled at the speed, it was in fast motion surely!  When they finished, the English –speaking Amigo wrote his name and number down and said to call him if I ever needed yard work done.

I thanked him and told him I would. I resisted the urge to offer them a bowl of nice homemade vegetable soup.  But I will keep the number.  I will gladly give up my Pumas and give him a call.