Let It Go

After several days of mind-numbing cold, the mercury hit 37 today. It is indeed a sad day when we are cheering for 37, but here I am and "hooray."

In the spirit of thawing, I decided to soften my heart toward the outdoors. It's been harsh to me, so I was giving it right back with attitude. But 37? I can work with that.

So I took the dog for a long walk and upon my return, decided to have a go at the ice-caked driveway with a strong, flat-edge shovel.

As I'm digging and chipping up little 4-inch pieces of ice and snow from the long driveway and pitching them up on the lawn, a woman walked by with a boxer on the end of her leash.

"Let it go," she said to me with just a hint of a laugh.

"I know, I should," I said. "I don't why I'm doing this."

"There is no point," she said, again with just a bit of a giggle in her voice.

Off she went.

I could have taken offense. After all, I'm trying to clear dangerous ice and snow from my driveway and sidewalk to help people like her who want to walk across it. I'm saving her from falling on her butt and being dragged for blocks by her dog while clawing the icy ground in an attempt to get up.

But she said it so kindly, almost like she was talking to an old lady cutting her grass with a scissors. What I was doing -- or more accurately put, trying to do -- was absurd.

I should let it go.

There is no point.

So I put my shovel away and went in.