And Then You Grow to Like It

Snow falls again here in Pennsylvania. We wake up, blanketed by white again. This means we bundle up to shovel the snow again. 

But it’s a joyful thing. I’ve grown to love sipping hot coffee, throwing on my thick coat and boots and gloves and scarf and hat. I like the quiet of the cold morning. I like the orderly lines I follow along the sidewalks and driveway. I like the feel of exercise this early.

And I love warming up to the oatmeal and apples after shoveling snow. Someday, we’ll purchase a snowblower and finish this job so quickly. Instead of the quiet interrupted by the sounds of my snow shovel, we’ll hear that loud machine. For now, I’ve grown to like the old-fashioned manual work of winter.

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