Walking Big Dog Rodney - Last Of The Snowmen

In order to get this picture of the neighborhood snowman, I had to shoo away our Big Dog Rodney. I was afraid he'd lift his leg as if the snowman were a fire hydrant and give it some color. And then what would I tell the little kids who created it?

I won't have to worry about that for much longer. After a frigid week that featured bone-chilling March winds, highs in the neighborhood are expected to reach the mid to upper 60s tomorrow.

The snowman will soon be absorbed by the patch of ground it stands on - reduced to meltwater that the grass can be depended upon to put to good use this spring.

And that reminds me.

I should probably check on my rickety old lawn mower. It's not as young and vibrant as it used to be. In fact, the last time I had it out it barely sputtered to life, so I expect it to protest when I fetch it from the dark corner of the garage where it spent the winter - likely drinking my beer and hijacking my Netflix account.

I suspect it's not looking forward to another grass cutting season. And neither am I.

But doesn't it matter whether we're ready to face yard work or not.

The snowman is melting.


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