We are in wait. Tonight words march across my i-phone screen warning of severe winter weather ahead. Again. This is how it has been of late. The snow is piled high. As a kid, this was the norm. Storm after storm the white stuff piled up. We didn’t know what to do with it. Four kids armed with four shovels moved the snow from the driveway carting it to the middle of the front yard. Shoveling was an all day and all night affair as the team of four trudged out every few hours to keep up. After all, we do live in Maine.
Now we have one shovel in the family. My husband is the keeper of all the snow removal equipment. He likes it that way. I am grateful for the truck with a plow hitched to move a volume of snow. Thankfully, Jerry takes care of our long, long drive. More stuff is on the way, but I am not bothered. Instead, I know how fortunate I am to be warmed by the wood fire as I prepare to settle in for the evening with a good book. Life is good with one shovel and one motivated willing husband. I am grateful.