Yay! Here's a hearty Wannaskan Almanac high five and hello! Today is Saturday, February 9th and boy did we get a lot of snow, folks! You betcha!
I absolutely detested shoveling as a kid. By the time I was big enough to get shoveling duty, my parents were divorced - my brother living with my dad and me with my mom. I could no longer play the Kid Sister card, or the Baby in the Family Whines Her Way Out Of It game. As the newly single Only Child, it always fell to me. Along with cutting the grass, hauling wood, stacking wood and washing windows. (Don't get me started on *ugh* daily chores.) While doing these loathsome tasks, I plotted my adult revenge, dreaming of the day when I could pass these sweaty, arduous tasks on to my own progeny.
As a twenty-something, living in a big city, snow persisted in being a problem. Do you know how expensive it is to get stuck in the city? Or how much it costs when you park on the wrong side of the street? Which is why I sold my car. Living in an apartment building with a maintenance staff took care of the rest.
Then I moved north. Not "regular" north. Wannaska north. And something strange happened to me.
First, I learned to love snow.
When snow no longer poses as an obstacle, it's quite beautiful. From the comfort of my home, I can cozy in and enjoy the picturesque blanketing of white stuff across the yard and on the pine trees, with no worries about how to get around. We live only two miles from town. When in doubt, I can always snowshoe or ski. (Yes, that's correct. We've lived in Wannaska country almost 15 years, and we still don't own a snowmobile.) But is it really ever so urgent to get to town? During a snowstorm? Only if there's a hockey game.
Next, I learned how to downhill ski.
This has got to be the laziest sport ever, and I love it. You take a chairlift up and gravity pulls you down. As long as you don't wipe out, what's not to love? Frolicking in the snow is fun! Something every kid knows, but I'd forgotten in my hurry to grow up. Fortunately having kids and a skiing husband reminded me of the blessing of winter fun.
Then I learned to love winter.
No bugs. No poison ivy. Need I say more?
I can also wax poetic about the beauty of winter. Crisp, cold air against a warm body. Sunshine on a white landscape. Bright blue of sky, a circle of sun dogs. Powder to plunge into. Snow angels. Staring up at a sky in a bed of white.
Now I love to shovel.
Use it or lose it, a wiry, able-bodied centenarian whispers behind my ear. Aging does that to you - inserts grumpy-old-man voices in your head. But I heed the call and get all invigorated when I find my groove.
I start in the middle of the driveway and push the shovel through a narrow strip of snow, hurling it into the yard. I think about my biceps and what a great workout I'm getting. I think about my back - careful to bend and lift correctly with my legs. Then I turn and jog/skid back the other direction, set my shovel down in the middle and clear a narrow strip in the other direction. Zip, zip, back and forth. I move as fast as I can. When my heart rate goes up, I win. Somehow, I think this makes me better than my kids and because it's me shoveling and not them, I win again.
Last winter, we had a steady diet of subzero temps - too cold to do anything and hardly any snow to do anything with except slip and bruise a tailbone. My winter adventures didn't start until March! (Prolonged winter is a perk to living in this area.) This past week, it started snowing on Sunday and kept on, intermittently, until Thursday. I cried tears of joy and shoveled at least four times.
I've already been out twice on the backyard hill with the toboggan. I sink thigh deep into the drifts and sigh. I can't decide if I want to be Indiana Jones or Lara Croft: Tombraider. (I've already played Wonder Woman.)
And then we get a snowblower.
After almost 15 years living in Wannaska country, a gift from a friend, just in time for the big snow.
If that's not a weird twist of fate, I don't know what is.
1996 - The Irish paramilitary organization IRA ends an 18-month ceasefire by exploding a large bomb in London
The explosion in London's Canary Wharf left 2 people dead and 39 injured.
1969 - The Boeing 747 flies for the first time
The “Jumbo Jet” was the world's largest passenger aircraft at the time.
1964 - The Beatles embark on their first tour in the United States
Their appearance in the Ed Sullivan Sow marked the beginning of the “British Invasion”
1959 - The world's first intercontinental ballistic missile becomes operational in the USSR
The Soviet R-7 Semyorka missile had a range of 8800 km (5500 mi).
1950 - U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy launches his anti-communist campaign
On this day, McCarthy accused the U.S. State Department of being infiltrated by communists.
1987 - Magdalena Neuner, German biathlete
1942 - Carole King, American singer-songwriter, pianist
1932 - Gerhard Richter, German painter
1846 - Wilhelm Maybach, German businessman, founded Maybach
1737 - Thomas Paine, English/American theorist, author
I absolutely detested shoveling as a kid. By the time I was big enough to get shoveling duty, my parents were divorced - my brother living with my dad and me with my mom. I could no longer play the Kid Sister card, or the Baby in the Family Whines Her Way Out Of It game. As the newly single Only Child, it always fell to me. Along with cutting the grass, hauling wood, stacking wood and washing windows. (Don't get me started on *ugh* daily chores.) While doing these loathsome tasks, I plotted my adult revenge, dreaming of the day when I could pass these sweaty, arduous tasks on to my own progeny.
As a twenty-something, living in a big city, snow persisted in being a problem. Do you know how expensive it is to get stuck in the city? Or how much it costs when you park on the wrong side of the street? Which is why I sold my car. Living in an apartment building with a maintenance staff took care of the rest.
Then I moved north. Not "regular" north. Wannaska north. And something strange happened to me.
First, I learned to love snow.
When snow no longer poses as an obstacle, it's quite beautiful. From the comfort of my home, I can cozy in and enjoy the picturesque blanketing of white stuff across the yard and on the pine trees, with no worries about how to get around. We live only two miles from town. When in doubt, I can always snowshoe or ski. (Yes, that's correct. We've lived in Wannaska country almost 15 years, and we still don't own a snowmobile.) But is it really ever so urgent to get to town? During a snowstorm? Only if there's a hockey game.
Next, I learned how to downhill ski.
This has got to be the laziest sport ever, and I love it. You take a chairlift up and gravity pulls you down. As long as you don't wipe out, what's not to love? Frolicking in the snow is fun! Something every kid knows, but I'd forgotten in my hurry to grow up. Fortunately having kids and a skiing husband reminded me of the blessing of winter fun.
Then I learned to love winter.
No bugs. No poison ivy. Need I say more?
I can also wax poetic about the beauty of winter. Crisp, cold air against a warm body. Sunshine on a white landscape. Bright blue of sky, a circle of sun dogs. Powder to plunge into. Snow angels. Staring up at a sky in a bed of white.
Now I love to shovel.
Use it or lose it, a wiry, able-bodied centenarian whispers behind my ear. Aging does that to you - inserts grumpy-old-man voices in your head. But I heed the call and get all invigorated when I find my groove.
I start in the middle of the driveway and push the shovel through a narrow strip of snow, hurling it into the yard. I think about my biceps and what a great workout I'm getting. I think about my back - careful to bend and lift correctly with my legs. Then I turn and jog/skid back the other direction, set my shovel down in the middle and clear a narrow strip in the other direction. Zip, zip, back and forth. I move as fast as I can. When my heart rate goes up, I win. Somehow, I think this makes me better than my kids and because it's me shoveling and not them, I win again.
Last winter, we had a steady diet of subzero temps - too cold to do anything and hardly any snow to do anything with except slip and bruise a tailbone. My winter adventures didn't start until March! (Prolonged winter is a perk to living in this area.) This past week, it started snowing on Sunday and kept on, intermittently, until Thursday. I cried tears of joy and shoveled at least four times.
I've already been out twice on the backyard hill with the toboggan. I sink thigh deep into the drifts and sigh. I can't decide if I want to be Indiana Jones or Lara Croft: Tombraider. (I've already played Wonder Woman.)
And then we get a snowblower.
After almost 15 years living in Wannaska country, a gift from a friend, just in time for the big snow.
If that's not a weird twist of fate, I don't know what is.
Kids' Corner
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
1996 - The Irish paramilitary organization IRA ends an 18-month ceasefire by exploding a large bomb in London
The explosion in London's Canary Wharf left 2 people dead and 39 injured.
1969 - The Boeing 747 flies for the first time
The “Jumbo Jet” was the world's largest passenger aircraft at the time.
1964 - The Beatles embark on their first tour in the United States
Their appearance in the Ed Sullivan Sow marked the beginning of the “British Invasion”
1959 - The world's first intercontinental ballistic missile becomes operational in the USSR
The Soviet R-7 Semyorka missile had a range of 8800 km (5500 mi).
1950 - U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy launches his anti-communist campaign
On this day, McCarthy accused the U.S. State Department of being infiltrated by communists.
Happy Birthday to You!🎶
1942 - Carole King, American singer-songwriter, pianist
1932 - Gerhard Richter, German painter
1846 - Wilhelm Maybach, German businessman, founded Maybach
1737 - Thomas Paine, English/American theorist, author
Remembering You
1981 - Bill Haley, American singer-songwriter, musician
"See you later, alligator. ..."
1957 - Miklós Horthy, Hungarian Admiral, regent
Book: A Life for Hungary: Memoirs by Miklós Horthy
1881 - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Russian author
"What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love."
1857 - Dionysios Solomos, Greek poet
Fun Fact: He is best known for writing the Hymn to Liberty (Greek: Ὕμνος εἰς τὴν Ἐλευθερίαν, Ýmnos eis tīn Eleutherían), of which the first two stanzas, set to music by Nikolaos Mantzaros, became the Greek national anthem in 1865.
Snow lasts but a season; spring comes soon enough. Not fast enough for some of you, but in the meantime, give the white stuff a whirl and make it a great Saturday!
Kim
"See you later, alligator. ..."
1957 - Miklós Horthy, Hungarian Admiral, regent
Book: A Life for Hungary: Memoirs by Miklós Horthy
1881 - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Russian author
"What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love."
1857 - Dionysios Solomos, Greek poet
Fun Fact: He is best known for writing the Hymn to Liberty (Greek: Ὕμνος εἰς τὴν Ἐλευθερίαν, Ýmnos eis tīn Eleutherían), of which the first two stanzas, set to music by Nikolaos Mantzaros, became the Greek national anthem in 1865.
Snow lasts but a season; spring comes soon enough. Not fast enough for some of you, but in the meantime, give the white stuff a whirl and make it a great Saturday!
Kim
I feel the same way. People always thought me nuts (that hasn't changed) especially when I moved from southern Iowa to extreme northern Minnesota to live. My closest high school friend moved to Sacramento, California, a year before me and gave me his snowshovel: "Good riddance! Put it to good use."
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed snow shoveling too as a kid because I could earn money doing it. I'd start at an end of the sidewalk and shovel about a shovel-width from the center to the left edge, backing up, all its length, then turn and do the other side from the opposite direction throwing the snow onto the parking or onto the yard. Narrower sidewalks only took one trip, with a little cleanup as I inspected my work. Although I had asthma, if I wore a scarf over my mouth/nose when it was real cold out, I had no problem. Since my mother was born in Palmville near Wannaska, I knew how to dress for the cold and relished it. Few of my other friends did.
We'd go sledding in Des Moines. My dad would haul us to any great sledding hill and wait in the car until we exhausted ourselves. I never grew up with snowmobiles like kids up here did, so I don't love them like they still do. Like you, I learned to ski instead, cross-country for me. We must have four pairs of skis here yet. No snowmobiles.
After the winter of 1996-1997 I bought a seven-foot snowblower for my tractor that changed 'everything' about snow removal here on the farm, yet I continued to shovel snow around the house i.e., the sidewalk, the steps. About the year I was talking about retiring the wife told me to buy a snowblower, which I scoffed about. "I don't need no stinkin' snowblower," I said. "As long as I'm in shape and watch what I do, it's healthier."
Right. The thing is, because of Joe McDonnell, I not only got a good deal on a great little Subaru AWD car (a 1998) but got in on a deal that included an almost new Ariens Compact snowblower, among a bunch of other yard working items with Joe in that same deal. Friends of his in Burnsville were moving to an Applevalley condo.
I love that little snowblower now. A great winter starter! Plus I get to stay in shape.
THANKS JOE! THANKS ALEX!
Thanks, Steve! We're not just snow buds; we're also Subaru peeps!
ReplyDeletep.s. Love your storytelling skills. Did you catch my recommendation to read Left at Hiva Oa?