Monday, February 6, 2023

Missed

I didn't miss the snow. Not by a long shot.

I feared the snow, feared that it would fall in great, heavy amounts while DW and I soaked in the sun and warmth on a beach in the Mexican, Mayan Riviera. And my fears were warranted.

Ottawa received a lot of snow while we were away: more than 30 centimetres had accumulated over the 10 days of our absence. I received notifications that our security cameras had detected motion, and that motion was blowing snow.

My parents were looking after our house while we were away. They checked in on our cats, making sure that Camille, Cece, and Finn had plenty of food and water, and that their litter boxes were kept fresh.

My folks don't have the strength or endurance to shovel my driveway and I didn't expect them to tackle the snow. We kept in touch and I told them that if the snow was bad, that we'd order a service to clear the snow from our lane.

My neighbour from across the street beat me to the punch. Talking to him when we returned, the said that he didn't know that we were away, but something made him wonder when, after the first small snowfall, I wasn't out to shovel the driveway.

He knows that I always keep the driveway pristine.

After a big snowfall of about 25 cm had fallen, and an entire day had elapsed, he figured that we were probably away. Either that, or I was dead, he said.

He only planned to clear out the end of the driveway, which had been sealed in by a snowplow. But once he had done that, he figured he'd continue and finish the job.

My doorbell camera alerted me while he was clearing our porch.

When we returned from Akumal Bay, on Saturday morning, the driveway had been shovelled again; this time, only a narrow path had been cleared to allow my car to pull out of the garage and onto the street, unobstructed. The pathway to the front door was also cleared.

According to my neighbour, my father had done that work.

So I was out, on Sunday, to widen my driveway and clear the thin covering of snow that fell later, on Saturday. That's when I thanked my neighbour with a bottle of tequila and another, of Mexican vanilla.

It's good to be home. I had missed my cats and my own bed.

I don't miss the snow. I don't miss shovelling.

Now that I'm back, now that I've worked up a sweat in the cold, throwing snow onto a bank that reaches over my head, I miss that sunny beach, miss watching the warm sun rise over the Caribbean Sea every morning.

I missed home while I was away: I miss Mexico, now that I'm home.

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