Shoveling

I am an expert in this art. And, this winter, I’m really indulging myself. I’m already over twenty hours being artistic and, truthfully, I’m sick of it. I think I’m ready to try my hand at another art. Something in the warm appendages/cold beverage in my hand art. You know, a new challenge for my artistic nature.

I will admit my last session was interesting. Being out in the white (as we artistes call it) is usually a lonely task. What with the scraping and the lifting and the tossing and the swearing you can see it’s best left to a solitary endeavor.

So imagine my surprise when I noticed I had a supervisor. It was the wild turkey who hangs around the yard. He’d get within a couple of feet, squat down to watch my progress and style. He gave little input, mainly stared before walking back to the supervisors area situated in a garden area with a corner or under what I’m sure he thinks of as the magical food from above area because every time he’s there, as if by magic, food appears.

My girlfriend was still sleeping so I told him to be patient and, once I was done to his satisfaction, I’d rain some goodies down as a reward for his awesome supervisory skills.

I get in and open the window but he wasn’t there. I guess when watching an idiot move snow (I mean, do art) was over he moved on. I knew he’d be back or something else would eat the bread so I started tossing when, from behind some bushes (maybe he was peeing), he comes running up the hill. I will always laugh at a turkey running.

I get to work and begin shoveling because the plow didn’t show. So it falls onto me to make sure any customers stupid enough to arrive (one did five minutes after opening) they’d have somewhere to go so I could easily call them idiots. While doing this someone comes up from behind me and says,

“Hey!”

I face the guy who asks if, because my business is right here, I’m going to shovel the bus stop. I make it simple for him.

“No.”

“You really should. It’s dangerous.”

I tell him it’s not our property so, no.

“You really should. It would be nice.”

“I’ll lend you a shovel.”

Funny how it’s always me who has to be nice.

Here’s an additional turkey story (because I know you love them) from a few weeks ago.

I was told there was quite a ruckus where Brutus goes crazy. He jumps up to look out a window and is making all kinds of noise.

My girlfriend gets up and sees a flock of seagulls have descended upon the yard and the turkey is going wild chasing them away. Flapping, screeching, anything to get them to move on.

Which they did.

So, take notice. We’re protected by an attack turkey.

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2 responses to “Shoveling

  1. My life is controlled by Wild Turkey too…what?

  2. I’d say it’s more of a craft than an art, but let’s not split hairs. Good for you for indulging in it. Get jiggy wit it. 🙂

    Snow moving = purposeful exercise = good

    Whatever … ‘unavoidable’ could stand in nicely for ‘purposeful’.

    That turkey camped out in your yard has got to be some kind of omen doesn’t it? You gotta get a picture of it and post it. Please.

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