Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Wednesday, March 22, 2023

Goodbye, Please?

The walks were nearly bare! Then, this morning . . .
 November 8th. They squealed with glee,
They ran outside, both he and she.
For glistening, glorious, flakes of snow,
Upon the ground in drifts did go.

Almost too lovely to believe,
They praised the Lord that they did leave
The desert dry for such a place,
With snow-wet cheeks, they did embrace.

Our Ernest went to shovel, then,
And soon their walks were clean again,
Till the snowplow trundled through,
And on their sidewalk, snow did strew.

He laughed. “I get to shovel more!”
And finished this delightful chore.
Then back inside to watch it all,
The white snow unrelenting, fall.

Next day the sun arose and shone,
Soon all their precious snow was gone,
They sadly groused to neighbour, Bill,
“Don’t fret,” he said. “You’ll get your fill!”

And he was right. A week or so
Would scurry past, then winds would blow,
And with them came eight inches more,
All piled so nicely there. Outdoors.

With scoop in hand, he headed out,
And finished just in time to scout,
The snowplow coming up the road,
And dumping, once again, his load.

He shook his head. “That goofy guy!”
“He must not see as he goes by.”
Then, with a grimace, he did bend,
And shoveled up the snow again.

Next day another foot or so,
Upon their neighbourhood, did go,
It took two hours before he saw,
The sidewalk bare, the snow withdrawn.

Until the driver of the truck,
Deposited his load of muck.
He shook his fist and nearly swore,
Then sighing, started in once more.

I probably don’t have to say,
The snow fell day by day by day,
Poor Ernest and his mighty scoop,
Understandably, were pooped.

Then came that day and the last straw,
Another foot or so he saw,
His shovel broke, he nearly cried,
He threw it at the snowplow guy.

He stomped inside and told his wife,
That he no longer liked this life.
He said, “It’s May. For Heaven’s sake!
Who knows how much more I can take.”

“Before I have a heart attack.
Or I beat someone blue and black!
Go grab your bags and pack your things,
We’re moving back to Desert Springs!”

So If you’re thinking of the snow,
How jolly and how fun to go,
It is as sweet as you perceive,
But in Canada, it never leaves!
Sigh.

8 comments:

  1. Ha! This made me chuckle! As a fellow Canadian, I feel your pain!

    ReplyDelete
  2. We had a strange winter in Connecticut. Mostly mild, but still gray and cold. Like you, can't wait for Spring!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Well I would exchange a good snowfall for the dreary drizzly mug we have for weather rigth now. We never see the sun, and even if we're past equinox. I sit here at 5 pm with the lighs turned on. Snow makes everything bright, rain makes it muddy grey. Spring is more than welcome! or snow, just no more murky rain for Pete's sake!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Heeheehee! That's what i've tried to tell my husband when he says he wants to move to Alaska. The first snow is fun. After that, it's just a chore.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Poor Ernest. Yes, those first snow flakes are lovely, but by March, we've had it.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I'd throw it at the snow plow guy, too!! In Rochester now, snow tonight. But not going to stay on ground.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Here in California we have been complaining loudly from all the rain. We are so spoiled. LOL

    ReplyDelete
  8. Loved it. November 8th is my birthday! But I'm in Florida now because of the snow in New England!

    ReplyDelete

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