|Hacking a Path|
|For More Than Chopping Wood|
|Hulking Remains of Icy Roof Snow|
|Join Us Every Sunday!|
Stepping across the ice carefully, I have to coax Bobo down the steps and over the icy hump. It's like beckoning a dog to venture out onto a glacial field. She dislikes the ice pile more than the snow, slush or rain. Her hesitation reminds me that it's only a matter of time before I slip to my doom.
When it snows, Todd tosses any accumulation with a heavy-duty, metal, grain shovel. He prefers this one after breaking several so-called snow shovels. It's heavy, but not enough to break up the pile. So I grab an ax from the trio on the porch.
Hacking a path, I whack at the edge of ice until chunks begin to break. It's satisfying work; hack, hack, hack. The dogs watch from the window as I continue to make our way in and out safer. I'm not strong enough to dismantle the entire pile, but now we have an ice-free bottom step and narrow path past the hulking ice.
Looking around at all the soggy ground and melting drifts, I laugh to think that I'm hacking a path in spring with an ax. But when you live in the country, you gotta do what you gotta do.
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