At five thirty in the morning yesterday, I awoke to the sound of dogs. No barking, just little noises to let me know it was almost time for their breakfast. And by almost, I mean within one hour. I laid there for another half hour knowing that I had to go out and clear the sidewalks of the snow that fell overnight. After getting up, feeding the dogs, and letting them out to poop and pee, I started getting ready for the job at hand. After I put on my heavy fleece lined jeans, and started lacing up my snow shoveling boots, a flash of nostalgia came over me. How many times had I gone through this routine when I was a kid?
Mom would make sure I was wearing my long john underwear and a sweater over my school uniform shirt. Then I would have to put on the outer wear. Big, clumsy snow pants over my regular pants, a heavy coat and muffler along with my hat. The hat was a strange thing with flaps and a bit of fake fur at the top. It kept me warm, but looked so stupid. Finally the boots. Big rubber things that I would quickly outgrow, making them more and more difficult to put on as the months and years passed. What I hated most about those boots were the snap/buckle things on them. I never got the hang of snapping those things closed and managed to pinch a finger in one every time I put them on. Now when I think back to my childhood, I don't remember ever being cold while walking to school. No, not cold. More like a baked potato wrapped in aluminum foil. Over cooked and steaming.
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