I bought shovels (yes, plural) at Costco yesterday, along with two pairs of boots for the boys. This winter I won't be shoveling alone. We now have 3 good shovels instead of 1 good one and 1 or 2 crappy ones.
But I can't really complain too much about the snow. At about 2 this afternoon we got a call from our neighbor. She'd fallen and thought she'd broken her wrist. She's already somewhat frail and is using oxygen. The worst part? She was upset because she didn't want to be a bother. It makes me teary just thinking about it. I would do anything for her, and she would do the same for us. There's just something about being a strong individual and having to ask for help that's so demoralizing, somehow.
If I could have, I would have driven her to the ER myself. Instead, two of her friends arrived, one in a Jeep. We bundled my neighbor into her own all-wheel-drive car with one friend, and the other followed in his Jeep. And while the cars were being sorted out, down our street came a "cowboy." I refer to those idiots who have nothing better to do on dangerously snowy days than to drive way too fast on the dangerous neighborhood streets in their 4x4s, usually alone, often without their lights on. And you know what the friend with the Jeep had been doing all day? He'd been a real cowboy: he'd been driving around helping people who had become stuck in the snow. That's the difference between a "cowboy" and a cowboy. The former is in it for himself (I've yet to see a woman "cowboy," although I'm sure they're out there). The true cowboy is all about helping other people.
So now I'm going to make some hot chocolate for the boys, set up my spinning wheel, and listen to a good book. It's a nice feeling to be safe and warm. I hope that you're staying safe and warm, too.