Trombone and I went for our morning walk today with the stroller, foolishly thinking that a little bit of rain and temperatures above freezing would have made the sidewalks magically clear and back to Normal Vancouver Winter Grey Cement.
Ah, most of the street is clear. That’s nice.
Oh! That was a big patch of ice under that slush. Sorry kid. Good thing I strapped you –
dammit now we’re stuck
dammit, dammit dammit
oof.
ooooooof.
“Good morning!” to a man pushing double stroller going opposite way.
Sure. HE bought the all-terrain stroller. How did he know we were going to have an Ontario winter? He’s probably an ex-Ontarian with insider information.
You know, for a neighbourhood where the houses cost 600 grand I’m wondering why no one can afford a snow shovel. Or some salt. You probably have $50 lemon pepper Aegean sea salt in your kitchens – why not toss some on your goddamn –
ack.
oooooooof.
“Good morning!” to old man with cane picking his way carefully down the sidewalk.
OK. Maybe some of these people are too old to shovel. This house, for example. Oldsmobile in the driveway, snow piled around it. They obviously haven’t been out all week.
I wonder if they’re okay.
Maybe I should –
nah. They’re fine. Look, there’s somebody cleaning the windows.
Ah, more clear sidewalk. What a lovely –
ooof. GodDAMN it. That’s it – shovel all the slush to the curb so I get stuck every. single. time. I cross the street.
And you people, with the SUV in your driveway. WHAT’S YOUR EXCUSE? Get out here and shovel your damn walk! (that part might have been out loud) You can afford to drive an SUV, you can afford a damn shovel. Hell – attach a shovel to the front bumper and drive it up and down the sidewalk for all I care.
Of course the SUV people might have heart conditions. Or a history of stroke. Or a muscle deterioration disease. Or maybe it’s the son’s SUV and he’s just arrived at his elderly parents’ house to clear out their papers & closets because they both died! On Christmas! But he was too busy with his own stuff to make it home for Christmas!
(Stop, kiss Trombone. Make him promise never to put me in a home. Try – and fail – to get “Cat’s In the Cradle” out of my head for the rest of the day.)
Almost there, almost there, almost –
well that’s unexpected. You’d think the “Legion Manor,” where everyone who doesn’t have a walker has a wheelchair would do a better job with a shovel. Liability issues? Maybe I should lose my footing and sue. That would be a fun use of my second 6 months of maternity leave.
Note this, self: when Trombone is old enough, he is going door to door shovelling walks. For free for the elderly and infirm – and he will know to ask for proof of these conditions – and for a nominal fee for the rich or lazy.
At last! Time for my Bacon ‘n Egger at The Most Depressing Mall In The Universe!
I’ll end it there. The rest of it goes mostly mmmmmmmmm bacon.
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