But it's a Sunday so the snow won't be trampled flat before the ice descends to make it slippery and the rain descends to make it slippier, before, we hope with foolish optimism, melting it all away; so maybe it would be a *bad* idea to go out and shovel and salt and all that? And I should stay in here all cozy? with nothing I want to read because Rotenberg is mad and Pratchett is Pratchett and Pa Chin is depressing and Yuki Kaori-- we won't talk about Yuki Kaori.
I admit, my motive in shovelling is usually to make it easier for *me* to get around, at least for the space of three house fronts. Tomorrow morning will be disgusting whichever way it goes; and if MEC had delivered my snow crampons that give boots traction I might be more lackadaisical. I suppose I must, as they say, monitor the situation. And think how many calories get burned off shovelling snow.
