Now that I own a house, I have also returned to the land of snow shoveling. We have a lot of sidewalk to clear and a longish (for a city) driveway, so our plan, eventually, is to acquire a snowblower. As with most of our plans, eventually is the key word. Thus, I spent a chunk of yesterday shoveling out about two-thirds of what needs to be cleared, and today I'll go finish that up before heading north for band practice.

As I was working yesterday, a young woman stopped to watch me. She was wearing high-heeled boots and was picking her way gingerly down the center of the slushy street. "I hate the snow," she announced, and then asked, "Do you like the snow?" I told her I did like snow but was not especially fond of shoveling it.

She looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments before inquiring, "Why are you moving the snow?"

At this point I realized that she had probably not lived in this country for very long, so I explained that I needed to clear the snow out of the driveway so I could park my car in it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, enlightened, and then continued her walk down the street.

This is the kind of interaction that makes me like Portland.