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14 | January 25, 2018 | The glencoe anchor sound off<br />
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Sponsored by<br />
City Girl Confessions<br />
Thank you to the<br />
dedicated winter helpers<br />
Kelly Anderson<br />
Contributing Columnist<br />
Glencoe resident<br />
Nearly six years<br />
ago, me and my<br />
husband made the<br />
joyful decision that we<br />
would employ a snow removal<br />
service. Yes, “joyful”<br />
is the important word<br />
here because it meant that<br />
as we juggled grad school<br />
and a newborn baby, that<br />
we would have a little<br />
help during the brutal<br />
Midwest winters.<br />
For a long time, this<br />
plan was nothing short<br />
of delightful. Whenever<br />
more than 3 inches of<br />
snow stacked up, our<br />
driveway was plowed and<br />
sidewalks shoveled. And<br />
so the years moved right<br />
along, we moved into a<br />
new home with a much<br />
larger driveway in the<br />
Village of Glencoe.<br />
I’ll confess: I got used<br />
to this luxury. So used<br />
to it, that I settled into a<br />
new normal of stress-free<br />
snow removal. Blizzard?<br />
No worries. Thundersnow?<br />
No big deal. The<br />
snow removal team was<br />
always around for a<br />
rescue and often it took<br />
place in the earliest morning<br />
hours, the logic being<br />
that residents could then<br />
easily exit their driveways<br />
in time for their<br />
morning commutes.<br />
Last week, a sizable<br />
snowfall hit the North<br />
Shore right around the<br />
time my husband hopped<br />
on a plane for a business<br />
trip. As he cruised toward<br />
sunny, snow-free Florida,<br />
the flakes continued to<br />
fall … and fall … and<br />
fall.<br />
It was then that I found<br />
myself scratching my<br />
head.<br />
“Hmmm, did we reemploy<br />
the snow removal<br />
service this year?” I<br />
thought to myself.<br />
We hadn’t had a lot<br />
of snow yet so I couldn’t<br />
recall with clarity. But<br />
one thing I knew for sure:<br />
there was 5 inches in my<br />
driveway and no sign of a<br />
snow plow.<br />
So I grabbed a shovel.<br />
I rounded up my kids and<br />
piled on a closet-full of<br />
winter gear. Wobbling<br />
around like down-filled<br />
marshmallows with pompom<br />
hats, we got to work.<br />
I assigned the front steps<br />
and patio to the little<br />
ones, and I tackled the<br />
beast of a driveway on<br />
my own.<br />
It was a riot. With quiet<br />
concentration my 2-yearold<br />
and 5-year-old shoveled<br />
impressively (had I<br />
only known earlier that<br />
this chore was the remedy<br />
to their loud rough-housing).<br />
Worrying about the<br />
cold or my kids claiming<br />
instant boredom, I took to<br />
jogging while shoveling<br />
long strips of snow. Holy<br />
cardio, indeed.<br />
When our work was<br />
finished, we high-fived,<br />
trudged into the house and<br />
stripped off our wet winter<br />
gear into one big pile. The<br />
snow continued to fall.<br />
The next morning, I<br />
awoke earlier than normal<br />
to shovel alone while my<br />
children slept. It was dark<br />
and pin-drop quiet. When<br />
I finished, I gripped my<br />
shovel and looked around<br />
at the frigid, wintry earth.<br />
It was calm and stunningly<br />
peaceful. Amidst<br />
the chill and some seriously<br />
sore muscles, I felt<br />
grateful.<br />
Grateful for the helpers<br />
that ride throughout the<br />
night or wake extra early<br />
to bring aid during the<br />
winter. Grateful for all the<br />
times I was able to sleep<br />
in and be worry-free.<br />
Grateful for the people<br />
that keep my driveway<br />
safe and the roads safer in<br />
Glencoe.<br />
Thank you for reminding<br />
me of how tough your<br />
job is and how dedicated<br />
you are to doing it well.<br />
Kelly Q. Anderson is a<br />
writer, photographer and<br />
former Chicagoan. She pens<br />
blogs and books from her<br />
home in Glencoe, which she<br />
shares with her husband,<br />
son, daughter and Boston<br />
terrier.<br />
visit us online at GLENCOEANCHOR.com