One of the things I like about clearing the snow from the garden path is how the names of the companies who manufactured the bricks a hundred or more years ago are brought into relief. I realized that I'm capable of enjoying commercial branding and advertising, so long as the company in question is dead. Sometimes I worry that today's companies will never die, which is one of the reasons they seem so inhumane. Twenty or thirty years ago, the internet was supposed to make us free, and now it's a quagmire of shopping, advertising, surveillance, and misinformation. (And some pretty funny memes, to be honest, but I'm not sure it's enough to push the internet into the 'good for humanity' category.)
Yesterday we had our first snow of the winter. It wasn't exactly a blizzard, but it was more than a dusting. I wished that there were no cars blocking my view of the street.
I took a 'before' picture of the steps, which I then shoveled. (I forgot to take an 'after' picture.)
I next tackled the sidewalk. My neighbor came out we complained about the city's failure to shovel sidewalks. Apparently they do it in Jersey City, where they also have many protected bike lanes. What's wrong with New York City? We spend millions cleaning the streets for cars (and billions on the police), but pedestrians are (get ready) 'left out in the cold.' My neighbor has two children under the age of ten, so we also talked about his fears about the planet they're going to inherit. 'Maybe they'll get angry,' I said.
The garden looked very pretty under the snow.
I shook the branches free and cleared the path, thinking that Clio might want to frolic in the snow, like all the happy dogs I saw on Twitter.
It was hard to tell if the statue seemed concerned or not concerned, and if so, about what.
Clio poked her head out of door and turned around. We're all getting old, I thought, as I followed her inside.
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