A really good shovel.

My Block is my village, my household my little patch of land I govern with my shovel.
My shovel, my spear, my weapon. Honestly I've never felt more in control of something. At least I have something to do. I can shovel. Even when it looks impossible, because the snow is light I know I can have a path cleared  within minutes. My overzealous helpfulness is sometimes met with suspicion and out right rejection. Whatever. The sidewalks are clear. I take out my frustrations on the snow that must be cleared. And then, after coming to terms with that rejection, I just started digging tunnels and building forts. Perhaps my body has just gotten used to shoveling and now I can't stop. I have developed techniques where I can thrust snow high and farther than I ever could have last year while simultaneously switching the shovel from a left handed grip to a right handed grip or vice versa mid air.  It would have been much cheaper if I had taken up this activity instead of Kung Fu as my hobby. Like that guy Seamus Heaney wrote a poem about. At the very least, my hobby would have actually made me some money instead of costing me money.

I love this weather. I love working up a sweat. Let's all by live in yerts and bow snowshoes. Let's start knapping beer bottle bottom shards to sticks and hunt rats. I don't care, just show me how.

I feel like I can do anything.

Maybe I'm insane.

Maybe I just have a really good shovel.