Old Man Winter, you’re no match for my neatnik tendencies.
I’ve been obsessed this winter with having the cleanest, tidiest sidewalk on my street regardless of what the season throws at me. I want the concrete showing through at all times — edge to edge, corner to corner. I crave perfection.
The just-past superstorm presented a challenge, to be sure.
With so much snow on the ground on Friday morning, I had to set my sidewalk fixation aside and first attend to the basics: clearing the snow in front of my garage, restoring stairway access to the house front and back, and so on. This was hours of shoveling work for much of yesterday and this morning.
Once that heavy labor was completed today, I finally was able to attack the sidewalk. (I may have cackled with glee a bit.)
A neighbor with a snowblower had restored partial sidewalk access along the length of our street on our southern side, and others felt that was sufficient.
Leaving the sidewalk in such an incomplete state would have bugged me, though, so today I spent a couple of hours scrape, scrape, scraping with my metal-edged shovel to get down to the concrete underneath.
My sidewalk is now a thing of beauty … at least until the next snowstorm.
Bring it on, Boreas.
Update: I’ve been schooled. If I shovel and scrape my sidewalk in this way, and it’s really cold outside, the walk can turn into an ice rink. I either need to leave some snow on the walk, or scatter kitty litter over it for traction. Live and learn.
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