A New Year starts a fresh calendar, but the slate isn’t wiped entirely clean. There is much that gets carried over, all of the open tasks on your lists – wherever you keep them. And snow. We are having a much snowier winter than last year here in the Midwest and perhaps even snowier than average.
Whatever you thought you might do on a given day, show removal gets added in – almost every day of this New Year. This also means adding in longer travel times, altered routes, changes in plans. Instead of ticking something off of the endless lists, snow might mean moving it back days or weeks so that it lurks undone instead of smartly checked off. Harder to catch up, keep up or stay ahead.
In our house this year, it is my son who is taking point on snow removal here and for an older neighbor. He is both happy to help her out and weary that it has been so frequent. Snow and cold make me want to hibernate. I am happy to live in modern times with central heating, wicking fabrics, and the internet.
But home isn’t entirely solace and a cozy den from the cold. I have once again neglected to pour treatments down the drain regularly so that the main drain that is meant to efficiently and silently whisk used water from our house is calling attention to itself. I haven’t ever had this problem with any previous house so I can’t help but wonder if there is a design flaw in this particular drain layout – an awkward spot that narrows too quickly or bends too sharply and allows for difficulties if not given regular attention.
A few years ago, at great expense, I discovered that collusion between the long ago builder and some housing inspector allowed for the brilliant installation of heavy coated cardboard – called Orangeburg pipe, I believe – as the piping which connected all the houses in my neighborhood to the city sewer. Not surprisingly, this pipe fails to stand the test of time. The pipe for my house had lasted amazingly well, the house being in its 40th decade. Lucky me, I was the lottery winner with a prize to pay out and new pipe to dig and lay out. With the bonus of a messed up front lawn for a year as things settled and grass reestablished itself.
Sometimes I feel like a maintenance person with a push broom. Push this personal thing along, push that household thing along, push this professional thing along. Go back to the beginning and start again. Replace the broom with a shovel and push that snow out of the way.
As thankful as I am for modern conveniences, is it an illusion that life was simpler and therefore easier to keep up with things in past generations?
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