Mr. and Mrs. Fuddy-Duddy

Yesterday was the last day of classes for me. I had a great day planned out for myself. I only had one class anyway so I'd be home just in time to watch the soaps for once and bask in the fact that I only have one more semester left in my BA. (YEAH!!!! That's something to bask in itself) Instead, I woke up late, tried to finish homework that I didn't understand so that the fill-in-the-blank stuff was filled in and I could get marks for having it "done" (apparently I'm still in jr. high where my teacher checks to see if I did my homework) and then, as I was backing out my car from our very long driveway, I got stuck. The temperature was just right so that the snow was a little slushy but not quite. I was so mad, my dad was mad and my mom was mad. I thought to myself "We'll just push it out. It'll be fine. I can still get to school on time." Unfortunatly, this was not what happened.

After pushing the car by MYSELF because my father was being an idiot and not helping, I finally conceeded. I was just so close to getting it out myself. If I had been just a little stronger. I took my dads car and drove to school. I was fuming the whole way to school, while sitting in class at school and and driving from school. I couldn't believe my dad wouldn't help me. He's like that though so it was no surprise.

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When I came home from school, my parents were outside shovelling. Well, it was more like my mother was supervising my father while he shoveled. He's like one of those kids that you have to watch all times or else they try and sneak out of what they're supposed to be doing. At that point I had already decided, while driving home, to shovel the six inches of packed snow and three layers of ice so the driveway could be used for the rest of the winter. I was then told that all of our good shovels were our greenhouse at the back of the garage in the backyard. I recovered the shovels that have been hiding in there for years and a pick. (In recent years we've been using the Crappy McCrappy shovels that we inherited when my grandfather died.) That was an adverture in itself becuase I had to trudge through two and a half feet of snow to get to the shovels but it reminded me of my childhood playing in the snow. I think I'll take my snowpants out more often this winter.

After about three or four hours of shovelling with both of my parents, it was done. We can see the actual concrete ground all over the driveway. This little adventure did however spur my father on to buying a $1500 snow blower yesterday. (Erik, we don't need to buy dad a birthday gift or a Christmas gift.) My mom was fine with it to my surprise when my dad came home with the bill. I guess she was feeling like it was probably time. Dad did turn 60 years old on Sunday and he's not as spry as he used to be. It was nice spending time with my parents like that even though it was while shoveling which is a terrible job in itself. My wrists hurts like there's no tomorrow right now because I got the lovely job of hacking away at the snow and ice with a pick (is that what it's called?) but I'll get over it. The pain will subside and I think I will look fondly upon that day for a long time. We don't usually get to spend time like in our day and age where people schedule themselves up to the hilt. I did however, come to realize that I do have old parents. One of them can order from some seniors menus now! Next it will be driving them to their doctors appointments and taking them grocery shopping. Oh, what a life!

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*Note about the picture. This is a picture of one of my cousins on the top of a mountain in Norway. I like it because it's like he's pointing to the future whatever that may be.