Snow Day in Jersey

                     Snow Day in Jersey
I let the snow – our first of the winter (not counting the October blast) - accumulate outside for a time (newspaper and coffee first) before venturing out with the shovel.

 

It is close to 11 when I take my last sip and put the paper down. It's the life of a pensioner. With daughter’s family and grand kids away I've got the day to myself.

Stepping on my porch I squint at the snow and guess that shoveling the light dry snow will be an easy go. My assessment is correct as I happily lift shovelfuls moving down the driveway.

Two doors away a neighbor is out as well. It is one of the many benefits of snow – neighborly chats. He is pushing a homemade double wide shovel contraption and seems deservedly proud of his ingenuity (fastening two actual shovels together and bracketing the handles). 

I meander down. “You’ll make short work of the walkway with a tool like that,” I offer, intending praise.

 

He smiles. “Yeah this works pretty good,” he says with modesty, then provides a demo by plowing a few feet from his driveway.  It’s a bit more of a struggle with the driveway snow, packed from passing plows. He looks up; draws a deep breath.

“Easy as pie,” I remark.

He nods without dispute and we chat some more, about the weather, local sleigh-riding hills, my daughter’s family who are his contemporaries.  The air is crisp, not at all bone chilling. Like a soprano’s perfect pitch the day itself is perfectly invigorating with the silent snow still falling and the intermittent pleasant sounds of shovels scraping the nearby sidewalks.

 Across the street another neighbor is wheeling a barrow full of firewood from backyard to his front porch, struggling just a bit through a yard of snow. “Should have done that yesterday,” we suggest – neighborly-like.

“You said it,” is the happy reply.

A third neighbor appears. He steps into the snow and onto the driveway which he attacks with a beginner’s eager-beaver vengeance. His house is directly across from mine and when his first burst of energy has reached its end, he straightens up and walks over.

‘We’re going away for a few days,” he tells me, catching his breath.

“I’ll keep an eye on the house,” I respond.

He thanks me; offers that his newspaper will be stopped, but tomorrow it will still come. “We’ll be gone; could you pick it up?” he says.

This fills me with glee – a free Sunday NY Times. “Don’t worry, I’ll save it for you," I say. Then add a joke, "But I might read it.” 

He gets it.

FYI: My own NY Times is limited to Monday through Friday. Can not resist plugging myself as a bona fide NY Times reader, albeit 5 days only. A pensioner’s budget is my justification. Silly man.   

But the snow: Yes – I do love the snow – especially days like today. Perfect.

Plus the free paper.