Message for the Snow Gods: Enough Already!

I had to shovel a path for my dog to take a crap today. All told, I spent about 6 hours shoveling snow. This involves shoveling some relatively contained areas: my driveway and sidewalk, my patio and the space under my bird feeders. Oh yeah, and a path out to a flat area I created in my yard for Jake to poop.

My first foray into the cold was at 8:00 a.m. and involved only the patio and bird feeders. It was still snowing heavily, so I decided to wait a bit before tackling the larger areas.

At 11:30, the snow seemed to be tapering off, so I uncovered the patio, refilled the bird feeders, and started excavating the driveway and sidewalk. In the early morning hours, there had been a period of snow mixed with freezing rain -- not long, but enough to create a thick crust. Thus, shoveling involved removing three layers: a layer of bottom snow, a layer of ice and a thick layer of recent snow. Two hours later, I was finished and my back was killing me. In the meantime, the snow had started anew and buried most of what I shoveled when I started. Sweaty and aching, I decided to go back inside and wait for the frozen precipitation to cease.

It finally did around 4:30. I threw my barn coat, jeans and socks in the dryer and then went back out to re-shovel everything and to uncover my car. I paused only briefly when one of my neighbors got stuck out on the street. The redneck next door help me push her PT Cruiser into her driveway. It must have killed him to help "sissyboy" do something. Amazingly, he was pretty cordial.

This last shoveling created a new problem: I actually ran out of places to discard snow. It is piled so steeply against the house and the side of my driveway, that when I add more, it just slides back onto the surface I just uncovered.

My street hasn't yet been plowed, so trying to go anywhere is just an exercise in frustration. Fortunately, I have everything I need right here. If the spirit moves me tomorrow, I'll take some photos of the aftermath of this most recent snowstorm.

There is a popular urban legend that Eskimos have 100 words for snow. (See the Wikipedia entry for truth.) I just want to know one word to communicate to the Snow Gods: stop!