There is something lovely about being in a very warm bed under a thick but light duvet in the dark on a winter morning listening to someone else's snowshovel scraping their driveway of the 25 cm of snow that fell. I actually don't mind being woken up by that sound. It reminds me that this is Ottawa. This is our experience. As neighbours we share it together. But I have the luxury of not having to do that before going to work because my work is right here in this house.
I was dreamily listening to that sound this morning when it was interrupted by the whine of a machine. It was a pretty loud machine and in my dozy fog I wondered why someone was running a chainsaw or a lawnmower at 6:00 in the morning. And it didn't stop. It continued to interrupt the sound of the shovels outside and, more importantly, my sleep.
It took me at least 3 minutes to realize that my neighbour, who recently bought a snowblower, thought it was okay to run it at 6:00 am.
Our street has been free of snowblowers until last week. It was an idyllic existence I now realize. Why do people think it's okay to run thouse things so early? They are helpful I'm sure but they are so downright annoying to the senses. I can see the need for them if you are quite old or at serious risk of a heart attack or if you have a crazy long driveway but if you live on my street, a street of attached houses and shared driveways, the last does not apply.
In too many cases, the snowblower is an exercise in laziness.
This year I've enjoyed shovelling the driveway. On a snowy day I go out there and do it several times and the kids play in the snow while I do it or help me with their little shovels. It's lovely. And would not be lovely at all with a snowblower.
And that is the end of my curmudgeonly rant of this morning. Time for porridge.