I am blessed with a kind neighbor. He is letting me borrow his snow blower. If you knew how big my driveway was, you would know why this may be the nicest thing that anyone has done for me in past two months, maybe even longer, except that he lent it to us two weeks ago, too. We are not close neighbors. We are wave and say hi kind of neighbors. They are soon to be retired empty-nesters who have been slowly upgrading their already nice house. We are a young, very loud family, with children who get up at the crack of dawn and like to play drums. The family with the crazy mother (that’s me) yelling at her children to get inside because they either have no clothes on, are once again playing in the dirty puddle in our driveway, or hitting golf balls in the general vicinity of said neighbor’s house. They tolerate us well. I couldn’t ask for more out of a neighbor, except for maybe the snow blower. Luckily, I didn’t have to ask. He offered to let us borrow it, thus ensuring that he wouldn’t have to endure the looks of envy I’m sure most snow blowers receive as their neighbors, mere peons, shovel away.
If you have a neighbor who has a snow blower, than you know what I am talking about. My sister and I call it the snow blower’s dilemma. If you are the lucky man or woman who owns one, what do you do? Do you offer to help a neighbor out? Does that mean you have to help all the neighbors out? And then, even worse, do you have to offer your snow blower every time it snows? I mean where does it end? It doesn’t. So, you have to do one of the following as I have witnessed (we all have pretty long driveways in my neighborhood). Either get up at the crack of dawn to do the job before any of your neighbors are awake, hoping the hum of your machine doesn’t wake those around you. Though not because you’re afraid of waking them; your afraid they’ll dress quickly and run out to start shoveling hoping you’ll take pity on them. Or, you go out and do what my dear father does and snow blows away, ignoring all neighbors and feigning deafness over the hum of the machine when his neighbor is calling over to him. Was his neighbor asking for help? Who knows? My dad just yelled back that he couldn’t hear him and never looked back.
Thankfully, my dad is not my neighbor. My neighbor is my neighbor and he takes pity on us. Now, if we could only get an invite in their pool.