Deeply flawed, but fundamentally decent, I approach life with an irreverent attitude toward certain modern social conventions, while harboring a profound nostalgia for bygone traditions of honor and decency. We each have our own code, and I succeed and fail by mine.
Exile has relegated the werewolf to life in the suburbs of New York City. Last week during Snowmageddon I, the area dodged a bullet and was spared any snowfall. While DC was getting shelled with 24 inches of snow, New York City and its environs were kicking back and enjoying some lattes. However, Snowmageddon II came back with a vengeance this time around with New York in the cross-hairs. So far, about 11 inches have fallen. (Much less than DC mind you, but then again this area isn't nearly as dysfunctional when snow falls) Earlier today, when there was a lull in the snowfall and about 7 inches had accumulated, the werewolf went to work shoveling the rather expansive driveway and walkway. He then retired inside, only to notice that by mid-afternoon, another three or four inches had fallen and this snow was the of the heavy icier variety. It looked as if his earlier efforts had been in vain. Dutifully, the driveway and walkway have been cleared again and rather impressive snow walls have formed. As dusk dawns, the werewolf has read that a few more inches are to be expected. It all feels so Sisyphean. However, the theory goes that by shoveling the snow in dedicated shifts, effort and labor will be reduced because the weight and density of packed snow will not be allowed to accumulate. So far, it's just a theory as the effort expanded will be hard to measure against effort saved.
That being said, few things are as tranquil and beautiful as the muted silence of an environment shrouded with several inches of fresh snowfall. Here's to living in a winter wonderland.