I gave up and called our friend, Jeremy, to come and plow the rest of the driveway. Thank you, Jeremy, Thank you Plow.
The trail of tears. That's what I've nicknamed my driveway.
Over 300 feet of dirt, gravel and rock, with a pretty little "S" curve around a huge, majestic beech tree, it goes on and on until it finally reaches the road.
Pituresque, you say? Nice to have some privacy, you say?
With the untimely death of our snowblower 2 years ago due to complications of stupidity and inconsistant maintenance, we are on our own with 2 shovels.
After spending 8 weeks encased in solid ice, our driveway finally melted on Saturday and we had gravel again. On Sunday through to Monday, we were the proud recipients of 16" of more snow. That's over a foot. And it's heavy snow, too.
Winter is not yet done wringing the last bits of life out of my bones.
I spent 2 hours yesterday shoveling half the driveway. It was the most I could do before my back went out and I spent the night on muscle relaxants.
Today, tears welling in my eyes and my back spasming at the thought, I will have to go back out there for round 2.
My driveway. The trail of tears.
Good Morning, Dog Poop.