All Hail the Plow!

Every year our favorite snow plow driver, Ronnie, pushes a large pile of snow in our cul-de-sac. Over the last few years the kids have delivered cookies and drawings to Ronnie on the job, which has probably led to our favored snow status. I have chronicled snow hills of the past, (click here, here, and here) but this year, Ronnie outdid himself. We were blessed with an early heavy snowstorm and our snow hill grew to about twenty feet high or so. The largest mountain we have ever had the privilege to be king of. The kids immediately took my best spades and started tunnelling. With this hill's size the kids were able to honeycomb their mound like a sponge.

Every year we have to warn the kids that our snow hill won't last the winter. The city usually leaves our cul-de-sac mountains for a couple of weeks before they bring in the dump trucks to haul all the fun away.

Well, last week Lady Di was in the kitchen when she heard the low rumble of trucks pulling into the street. "Uh-oh", she thought. "Better start warning Sweet Pea to avoid the meltdown."

But it was too late. SP heard the trucks too and ran to the window.

"No, no, no, no, no, no,...", repeated all the way up the stairs to her room. Her window over looks the front of the house so it has a direct view of our soon to be smaller snow hill.

LD then got on the hot line to our neighbor, Deb who also just happens to be friends with our plow driver, Ronnie. "Deb, you better call Ronnie on his cell or we're gonna have troubles!", relayed LD. Deb answered with, "I'm on it!"

About a half hour later, Ronnie shows up with his loader. We know it's his job and we know the snow has to be cleared for safety, so we can't really blame him. Plus, chances are we will probably get more snow this winter anyway. As Ronnie drove into our dead end, he stopped and studied our hill. Then he went to work. He carefully scooped as much snow as he could from all around the base of our giant snow cone. That filled one dump truck. Then with even greater care, he started slicing the sides of our snow like a sculptor shaving away layers of marble on his way to carving a masterpiece. When the last dump truck was filled, we were left with our honeycomb in it's entirety, but now it rested on a smooth round base. Much like an Easter egg drying on a ring of cardboard. Ronnie had filled his quota of dump trucks, but left the best part of the hill towering high.

Before he left, SP ran down the stairs and out the door without even putting on her coat in the cold 13 degree air. LD, caught unaware, quickly put on her boots and went out to retrieve SP. By the time she opened the door, SP was just returning to the front porch. She was carrying a large piece of paper. On the paper, SP had colored a large 'Thank You' and was holding it up for Ronnie to read.

Since then, the kids have dug a cave below their tunnels to give their pile an 'Old Man Winter' face. Hopefully, he will be able to stay around awhile longer.

Thanks again, Ronnie. We really appreciate it.