Snow Day. Halifax shut down this morning after a nor’easter and a foot and a half of snow last night. So no work.
Hurrah.
And I only had to spend a couple of hours digging us out of the house. Three strapping lads living here and Marissa and I were out shovelling snow. I swear, they are the laziest bastards I have ever come across. And grumpy about it too!
We tramped to the garage and got out the snow shovels and dug a path to the kitchen door, then dug a path to the front door, then dug a path to the road, then dug a jogging path past our house and next door’s house (because he’s away at the moment). Because our road is one of the big jogging routes in Halifax and there are dozens of people taking advantage of the snow day to get out for a run.
The wind was rising again and blowing the snow around a bit. Everything was covered in white powder, too soft and loose to make snowmen or even proper snowballs. Some cross-country skiers passed by, swish-swashing along the snow-covered path beside the train ravine across the road. The snow plough passed. The guy driving it pretended to swerve in and push the sludge into my freshly shovelled path. I wagged my finger at him. He laughed so much he nearly fulfilled his own intentions.
Snow Day. A day free from paid work so that the snow, or some of it anyway, can get shovelled out of the way. How else can the province get back on its feet?
Pay someone to sweep the paths? They do in Dartmouth, but not in Halifax.
And they’re reducing property taxes by 5% this year.
Sigh.
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