Not the end of the world, but just the last of the snow.
This is my little car, just before I had to go to town. We were out of milk, bread, t-paper, and birdseed. Which of those disasters is worse? I don’t know, but I had to make that trip.
Since driving and allowing your icy jetsam to smash into oncoming windshields is dangerous, I had to remove all that beautiful snow. It made me sad and cold.
I wore a jacket, but debris kept falling on my legs and feet. I needed a ten-foot handle on my broom. The broom wasn’t exactly working, anyway, because this snow was soft only in the middle, after days of sunshine and nights of freezing.
One of my kids had mentioned chopping the top ice into pieces, then scooping the entire business off in gobs. I kept brainstorming until I came back outdoors with what might have appeared to be grill-time gear: spatulas and oven mitts. Now everything was perfect. My hands were as comfortable in that cold as they would have been in the oven. My largest plastic spatula was excellent for chopping out sections of the snow layer and then scooping it off, exactly like serving huge slices of a huge cake.
When the snow is dying, I don’t care what I look like. Besides, we homeschool, so everyone already thinks we’re kooks and usually admires us, anyway. Handy.
What I like about homeschool, though, is that we used our heads and figured a way to do what we needed to do without buying something first. That’s good, since I couldn’t go to the store. Necessity is a great thing, and the mother of many other great things.
Necessity caused us to homeschool in the first place. That’s also good, since I couldn’t go to the…