Earlier this morning, while reading about the Fontana 8 (more about that later), I heard my wife say the driveway was blocked with snow, and she’d have to do some shovelling before babysitting Grandson Ollie.
Several thoughts began to race inside my head:
["Quiet layers of snow upon the screen window": photos GH]
The man of the house should do the heavy lifting.
Sweets paid for supper last night.
["Birdhouses with tall hats"]
If she’s babysitting, I’ll have the house to myself.
Get off your butt, Junior, time’s-a-wastin’.
["Snow clouds hide the sun - all part of London's biggest dump"]
So, I shovelled like a whirling dervish, worked up a sweat, and came indoors to a cup of tea.
Though a sneezing fit started after my third sip of tea and as my wife was leaving, the dozen jolts to my system were worth the effort of shovelling so hard.
And the house is so quiet now.
***
More Zoom w a View right here.
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