[nfb-talk] THOUGHT PROVOKER 119- Shoveling Snow Blind

[Robert Leslie Newman]

NFBtalk listers
RE:  Shoveling Snow Blind 

The newest THOUGHT PROVOKER has as its issue the carrying out of one of the
many responsibilities of owning a home.  It is one that is potentially very
physical, uncomfortable and possibly dangerous and some of us do it and some
do not.  If you have not read the PROVOKER, it follows.  Recall that I
collect responses and post them upon my web site for all the WWW to read and
learn from and that URL is- Http://thoughtprovoker.info  If you wish to
receive THOUGHT PROVOKERS sent directly to you, just write me and ask, at-
newmanrl at cox.net 

THOUGHT PROVOKER 119
SHOVELING SNOW BLIND

Snow shovel in hand I stepped out my front door.  "Burr."  It was late
afternoon and the latest winter storm of ten to thirteen inches accumulation
was winding down.  I had stayed home from work like most of the city.
Digging out after a paralyzing blizzard starts at your front door and I
wanted to get my walks and driveway cleared before the night's temps
hardened the new snow.  

"WOW!  Knee-deep!"  The snow always drifted up my front steps.  "This is
going to be work."  I breathed in the frosty air, enjoying the clean taste.
"Oh well, it all starts with the first scoop."  Truth be known, I looked
forward to the challenge; I was in good physical shape, enjoyed this type of
chore, and it chocked up a mark in the "responsible homeowner column."

My first scoop was straight ahead on the top step.  Lifting the blade, I
began throwing left over the waist-high bushes.  Three more scoops took me
down to concrete.  Stepping into the cleared space, pivoting left, touching
the blade on cement, thinking, "Might be able to get this strip in one go."
Jamming the blade forward to the grass line, lifting, pitching; feeling lose
snow cascading down onto my feet.  "Nope, too much."  I began scooping the
right-hand side of my trench. Two red cheeks later, the width of the walk
was clear and I had to remove my neck scarf to keep from overheating.  I
repeated this drill along the short walk that ran across the front of the
porch to where it met up with the driveway.  

While I scooped and tossed, I was thinking, "Interesting, shoveling snow as
a blind guy is one of those activities that usually brings about either
amazement or negatives in people's heads."  Recently, at my monthly meeting
for blind consumers, I took a poll.  Out of the five blind homeowners, I was
the only one who regularly shoveled.  Two were elderly women; one of them
shoveled when younger.  Two were younger than me; one of the guys had no
clue how it could be done, and the fifth guy had shoveled some, but had
orientation issues about getting lost.

If you've got your health, shoveling blind is just another alternative
technique.  The shovel is not only a tool for moving stuff; it's also a
travel tool.  And then there's your feet, just as the shovel tells you
tactilely and auditorially about the surface you are clearing, your feet do
the same; clear cement is different than cement that is snow-covered, which
is different than grass-covered ground.  Knowing when your blade is full
comes from the weight and amount of resistance that you can feel through the
handle.  You clear your area by scooping in an over-lapping pattern, just
like you cover the surface when using a vacuum sweeper, or clearing your
kitchen table, or mopping your floor.

The driveway was next.   It is about 10 foot wide and 50 feet long from curb
to garage.  So after a short rest, and throwing a few snowballs, I started
shoveling on across the front of the garage.  Now the snow got deeper, above
my waist. 

Facing down the drive toward the street, I listened around, taking a read on
the auditory landscape, getting oriented.  Left was the distant sounds of a
busy street and across from me and down two houses someone started up a
snowblower.

Starting at the right grass line, I dug in at the level of my belt buckle,
pitched right, continued to cut down into the drift, widening my excavation
in order to clear out the snow that slid into my deepening hole.  Shoveling
the average snowfall, if you viewed the snow as a long ribbon, I worked back
and forth across its end.  I'd start from the right side, scoop straight
ahead, pitch right, take a half step left, scoop, check to the right with my
foot for snow that had come off the blade and clear it, then half step to
the left and at midpoint of the ribbon, pitch left.  Nope, there was no
pretty choreography to today's job, it was just dig and throw, dig and
throw.  And so I kept with it until I detected the slant at the end of the
drive as it slopes down to the street.  "At last, here's the turn."  I got
to the sidewalk running across the front of my property and, after opening
up my jacket because I was really working up some internal heat, I cleared
that too.

"Alright! I'm finished."  Walking back over all that I had cleared, checking
for little landslides, I heard footsteps coming from where the snowblower
guy had been working.

"Hi, I'm Daniel, your new neighbor.  Hey." His voice moved from side to side
as he looked around, "Good job."  Then he added something I had to digest
before answering.  "If you want, I'd be willing to blow out your drive and
walks for the rest of the winter.  Interested?" 


Robert Leslie Newman
E-Mail- newmanrl at cox.net
Web Site- thoughtprovoker.info

-------------- next part --------------
THOUGHT PROVOKER 119- Shoveling Snow Blind
NFBtalk listers
RE:  Shoveling Snow Blind
The newest THOUGHT PROVOKER has as its issue the carrying out of one of the many responsibilities of owning a home.  It is one that is potentially very physical, uncomfortable and possibly dangerous and some of us do it and some do not.  If you have not read the PROVOKER, it follows.  Recall that I collect responses and post them upon my web site for all the WWW to read and learn from and that URL is-
Http://thoughtprovoker.info
Http://thoughtprovoker.info
  If you wish to receive THOUGHT PROVOKERS sent directly to you, just write me and ask, at-  newmanrl at cox.net
THOUGHT PROVOKER 119
SHOVELING SNOW BLIND
Snow shovel in hand I stepped out my front door.  "Burr."  It was late afternoon and the latest winter storm of ten to thirteen inches accumulation was winding down.  I had stayed home from work like most of the city.  Digging out after a paralyzing blizzard starts at your front door and I wanted to get my walks and driveway cleared before the night's temps hardened the new snow. 
"WOW!  Knee-deep!"  The snow always drifted up my front steps.  "This is going to be work."  I breathed in the frosty air, enjoying the clean taste.  "Oh well, it all starts with the first scoop."  Truth be known, I looked forward to the challenge; I was in good physical shape, enjoyed this type of chore, and it chocked up a mark in the "responsible homeowner column."
My first scoop was straight ahead on the top step.  Lifting the blade, I began throwing left over the waist-high bushes.  Three more scoops took me down to concrete.  Stepping into the cleared space, pivoting left, touching the blade on cement, thinking, "Might be able to get this strip in one go."  Jamming the blade forward to the grass line, lifting, pitching; feeling lose snow cascading down onto my feet.  "Nope, too much."  I began scooping the right-hand side of my trench. Two red cheeks later, the width of the walk was clear and I had to remove my neck scarf to keep from overheating.  I repeated this drill along the short walk that ran across the front of the porch to where it met up with the driveway. 
While I scooped and tossed, I was thinking, "Interesting, shoveling snow as a blind guy is one of those activities that usually brings about either amazement or negatives in people's heads."  Recently, at my monthly meeting for blind consumers, I took a poll.  Out of the five blind homeowners, I was the only one who regularly shoveled.  Two were elderly women; one of them shoveled when younger.  Two were younger than me; one of the guys had no clue how it could be done, and the fifth guy had shoveled some, but had orientation issues about getting lost.
If you’ve got your health, shoveling blind is just another alternative technique.  The shovel is not only a tool for moving stuff; it's also a travel tool.  And then there's your feet, just as the shovel tells you tactilely and auditorially about the surface you are clearing, your feet do the same; clear cement is different than cement that is snow-covered, which is different than grass-covered ground.  Knowing when your blade is full comes from the weight and amount of resistance that you can feel through the handle.  You clear your area by scooping in an over-lapping pattern, just like you cover the surface when using a vacuum sweeper, or clearing your kitchen table, or mopping your floor.
The driveway was next.   It is about 10 foot wide and 50 feet long from curb to garage.  So after a short rest, and throwing a few snowballs, I started shoveling on across the front of the garage.  Now the snow got deeper, above my waist.
Facing down the drive toward the street, I listened around, taking a read on the auditory landscape, getting oriented.  Left was the distant sounds of a busy street and across from me and down two houses someone started up a snowblower.
Starting at the right grass line, I dug in at the level of my belt buckle, pitched right, continued to cut down into the drift, widening my excavation in order to clear out the snow that slid into my deepening hole.  Shoveling the average snowfall, if you viewed the snow as a long ribbon, I worked back and forth across its end.  I’d start from the right side, scoop straight ahead, pitch right, take a half step left, scoop, check to the right with my foot for snow that had come off the blade and clear it, then half step to the left and at midpoint of the ribbon, pitch left.  Nope, there was no pretty choreography to today's job, it was just dig and throw, dig and throw.  And so I kept with it until I detected the slant at the end of the drive as it slopes down to the street.  "At last, here’s the turn."  I got to the sidewalk running across the front of my property and, after opening up my jacket because I was really working up some internal heat, I cleared that too.
"Alright! I’m finished."  Walking back over all that I had cleared, checking for little landslides, I heard footsteps coming from where the snowblower guy had been working.
"Hi, I'm Daniel, your new neighbor.  Hey…" His voice moved from side to side as he looked around, "Good job."  Then he added something I had to digest before answering.  "If you want, I'd be willing to blow out your drive and walks for the rest of the winter.  Interested?"
Robert Leslie Newman
E-Mail- newmanrl at cox.net
Web Site- thoughtprovoker.info