prolegomenon to a critique of snow shoveling

A friend at work asked me today if I like the cold weather. I didn't know what to say at first, so I pulled out the old chestnut, "It builds character." We proceeded to compare our weather in Central Swingstate with winters in Madison, winters in LaCrosse, Marquette, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, and moved on to other topics.

Yes, there are other topics, even when it's four above zero outside. When you're tired of talking about the shitty weather, you can talk about the shitty economy.

Anyway, it got me to thinking, and when I got home I swept the den floor, which gets very dusty, what with cat hair, woodstove, humans wearing shoes and all. It made no sense to sweep without cleaning out the stove, so I shoveled the ashes into a bucket and dumped them in a low spot outside under the snow and mulch. If you're going to sweep, you might as well water the plants, dust the table, and move things around a little. The fire will require kindling and more wood, so I shoveled the walkway back to the woodshed and brought in some firewood.

Shoveling was the least of the afternoon's chores and probably the most immediately gratifying. Path blocked by six inches of dry snow...wide-bladed shovel...bend legs, bend back, rest, repeat. Now the path is righteously clear under slanting late-afternoon rays. It took five minutes. Everything is in order, and I feel so darn virtuous I could give myself the Dudley Doright good citizen medal.

There's something about discomfort that focuses the mind. Not that I want to be uncomfortable all the time in order to keep my focus, but once in a blue moon it can be a good thing. Cold weather is like that. I don't want to be out there in subzero wind for long periods of time without recourse. I'll go out again tonight to bring in more wood, clear a path for the mail carrier, or take out the recycling, and before any body parts freeze, I'll come back in. Small doses are just fine; no need to do anything stupid.

I'll lace up my boots, put a hat and gloves on, of course, but probably not a coat for just a few minutes' foray in the frigid night. There is no heat like self-generated heat. Like night and day: the difference between being externally warmed by the space you're in and using the old internal furnace, preferably with a shovel in your hands.