Digging Out

The snow did return late yesterday afternoon, but not before we had some freezing rain and sleet. The total accumulation was pretty close to a foot. I spoke to my father in Maine today; they had nine inches of snow from the same storm.

The first sound I heard this morning after the alarm woke me up was the grating, scraping noise of metal against concrete. Someone was shoveling outside. Then I heard a car gunning its engine, wheels spinning ineffectually against the snow. I looked out of the bedroom window and saw one of our Guatemalan neighbors across the street attempting to pull out, without having cleared his space adequately. Watching him, I felt more grateful than ever to Mr. Byron, the neighbor who lets us park in his driveway. In the past, one of the most frustrating things about snowstorms was that street parking in our neighborhood would become even more difficult. Tab would spend a good hour shoveling out the parking space in front of our house, only to have it nabbed by someone else. At least this year we don't have to worry about that.

Most of the public and parochial schools were closed again today, but Daniel's school was open. In fact in the nearly three years he's attended, yesterday was the first time his school ever closed because of the weather. I'm really not sure why all those other schools were closed today, though. Many of the side streets are still snow-covered, but the main roads are fine.

The university was open today, too. Tab called his boss and told him he'd be in late after shoveling and dropping Daniel off at school. It took him a while to shovel the sidewalk in front of our house and the neighbors' and Mr. Byron's driveway. Daniel "helped," and earned $10 from Lorraine next door for his effort. I told Daniel that when he gets bigger he can earn more money shoveling, if he wants to. The idea astounded him.

When it was time to pick Daniel up at school this afternoon, I dressed the twins in their snowpants and boots and brought Daniel's snowpants with me to school for him to change into. Then we stopped by my grandmother's house to shovel the snow for my aunt Rita. My grandmother's house is a semi-detached row house, and Bill, the neighbor next door, had cleared his porch and a narrow path down the front walkway and along the sidewalk. It is typical for him to do a kind of half-assed job. I think if you're going to go to the trouble of shoveling, you might as well do it right the first time.

The boys took turns working with the small shovel while I cleared the porch and the sidewalk. We must have shamed Bill, who came out a few minutes later and joined me. With his help we soon finished up. Then I loaded the boys into the car and we drove to Princeton to pick up Tab.

Daniel and Stephen spent most of the ride bickering with each other. To distract Daniel, I asked him if he still wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up. He answered yes. Stephen piped up, "I want to be a veterinarian, too!"

"If Stephen is a veterinarian, he's going to have to work at a different office," Daniel grumbled.

I stifled a laugh. "Why wouldn't you want to work with him?" I asked.

"Because we would always be fighting," Daniel answered.

"You may not believe this, Dans, but someday you might actually want to spend time with your brothers."

Tab wasn't ready to go when we arrived. Since the boys had their snowpants and boots on, I let them go play in the snow. They looked like they were having such fun throwing snowballs at each other that I put aside the book I brought to read and went out to join them. We were having a great time, until Matthew's mitten fell off in a deep snow drift and his hand got cold and wet when he tried to retrieve it.

"I'm cold!" he sobbed. "My hand is cold! It feels like a polar bear's!" Tab, who had arrived at the car by then, helped Matthew put his mitten back on, and then we went home.

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