Lying in bed in the still very dark, I hear a loud noise coming up the driveway. Checking my Fitbit I see that it’s 430A. I know immediately what’s up.
You see, Hannah and I had gone to bed last night knowing that 6-12” of snow with sustained winds of 25+ mph was coming to town. I knew that tomorrow was going to be a stay-at-home day because shoveling out our 150′ driveway would take all day.
From around the edges of the shade in our first floor bedroom, I see the lights of Nolan’s truck. The scraping of our driveway is sweet music to my ears. Falling back asleep after Nolan pushes aside the 14” of snow, I know we have a clear path from our garage out to Chases Pond Road.
What a gift Nolan, a high school friend of our son Will, has given us. Often Nolan comes to our rescue when the big storms slam York. Similar to many others in our small town on the coast of Maine, he looks out for us.
As dawn breaks, instead of having to shovel and shovel some more on our driveway, I head out to make a path to our propane exhaust vent, clear the front door, begin a path to our generator and propane tanks, and skim an inch of snow off the driveway. My mind is already thinking, We can go to the gym! Thank you, Nolan!
Shoveling the berm of snow at the end of the driveway, I see the occasional pickup truck with a plow. Returning inside, I sip my coffee and feast on one of Hannah’s tantalizing biscuits in my new La-Z-Boy in front of SportsCenter.
An hour later I head back out to complete the path to the generator, begin to shovel our front deck, and snow rake our roof when I notice something amiss at the end of our driveway. The snowplow has snapped the posted of our mailing box and left it for dead.
This has happened four or five times in the nearly 40 years we’ve lived on our country road. In the past, the town claims that such accidents are the price of doing business and there is nothing they will do. But I see before me a golden opportunity to network for solutions.
Texting a variety of folks, I hear from our son Will, pickleball friends Norm and Fran, and my ping pong buddy George about repair possibilities. It makes my day being able to connect with my peeps.
So we have our first win/win/win of the season. First a snowplow surprise from a guy we’ve known since second grade, then a splintered mailbox as an opening for friendship connections, and third we got to the gym – all on the morning of February 2nd when the nor’easter came to town.
Two days later. In a team effort, Hannah and I slather on copious amounts of wood glue, cram the two splintered posts together, wrap the joint with high test duct tape, and support the union with a board from our shed. Let the healing begin.