|I am way more interested in photographing snowflakes.|
While we were talking to her, the husband was over at our house shoveling the walk from our door to our driveway. We'd just gotten back from the coffeeshop and had to immediately jump and help (he had brought over an extra shovel). We hadn't shoveled anything for a few reasons: one, we don't own a snow shovel because this NEVER happens; two, because it keeps snowing and I am not Sisyphus; four, we were getting around fine on the snow, which isn't slippery; and four, if you shovel your own sidewalk, it seems dickish not to keep going and do a whole block. So, we couldn't tell if he just really likes doing yardwork so much that he crept into our yard, or he was passive-aggressively saying that if we're his tennants, we'd better get on that. I was leaning towards the first explanation, but it gave J a Manly-Man Responsibility Complex. He was worried about having our landlords right across the street, "and this is why," he said, referring to the marathon snow-rearranging.
I mean, we don't own a snow shovel, and I really doubt they will require us to go and purchase one when it may not snow like this for another decade. There's more snow in the forecast, and I'm hoping it will cover up the icy sidewalks that were previously covered in nice, non-slippery snow.
It's kind of cute that J thinks he needs to "man-up" on yardwork when he thinks the landlord is judging him. So silly.