It has been up above freezing, yea even to 50 degrees Fahrenheit at times, since yesterday morning, and it’s now raining too, making advances on the snowpack like Patton’s Third Army moving through the Rhineland. I can actually see my lawn.
Afer wolfing lunch I was going to sit down immediately with some tea but I could not escape the nagging thought that, ever since I have been able to huck a shovel, storm drains have been clear on my watch in every snowy winter.
So despite what I told Arlington County a few days ago, I went out in the drizzle with a spade. I realized as I got to the end of the street that I was wearing river sandals and not shitstompers, but a downward hack or two told me the plow-compacted snow around the drain was pretty friable and I only had to smack the shovel with my heel a few times before feeling it scrape against the iron lip above the opening. I stood back a foot, jammed the shovel in horizontally and performed a spectacularly obscene pantomime until a good third of the drain was reamed.
The tea was steeped just right when I stepped back in.
I feel better now.