8^() Uncle Murphy gets me coming and going!

So all night it stormed, right? Lots and lots of wind, constant light horizontal rain. Around five the sky cleared, allowing the temperature to crash. Along about sunup we got heavy clouds. The wind continued to howl. Snow expected.

So I figured, I could put off shit-shoveling until tomorrow, but sure as hell if I do that it'll all be frozen to the ground. Screw it, I'm gonna bundle up and get'er done.

Now, with last summer's geiger counter-related windfall, I'm far better set for winter than I have been, clothing-wise. New thermal longies, a thick flannel shirt, a parka that actually fits, a Gortex waterproof. Hardly wore any of it all winter, but I had it, boy. And so I layered up, got the boys squared away, and headed to the hinterlands to shovel me some horseshit.

And at first it seemed that was the right thing to do. Wind, blinding snow squalls, you name it. But the horseapples were not yet stuck, so the only real problem I had was keeping the wind from blowing them off the fork en route to the shitwagon. No doubt in my mind that if I'd put it off, I'd be chiseling the stuff off the frozen ground. At last, I got the drop on Uncle Murphy!

And then, just as I was finishing up ... the sun broke out. The wind moderated. Within minutes I was sweating into all those layers. If I'd waited TWO HOURS...