Most people would probably hate shoveling, but I get a weird sense of accomplishment after moving all that heavy white stuff out of the way. It's cold, quiet work. You're just sort of out there in the blizzard, thinking about both nothing and everything. And it's lovely, peaceful, tranquil, painful, hefty, and tiresome. But I like it anyways.
I read a blog post by one of my favorite people in the planet, Rachael Caringella, that was beautiful, sweet, and exactly how I felt the past few weeks. She had a difficult task ahead of her, that she accomplished herself out of affection for her loved one. I suggest you read it. ^.^ I shoveled a lot of snow for my family and my sweetheart, too. :) (I love feeling close to this woman haha. She is astounding!)
