Another cross-country trip last week, this time to teach a seminar for Latin American distributors. In the past year, I've crossed the country 11 times.
This time I flew into Manchester. And I made the mistake of flying out the day before the session began, not leaving me time to recoup from the flight.
I guess I chose the wrong time to travel. Either that, or luck was against me. But I should have known better, because March is one of those months that can turn on a whim, from 50's and 60's, to an ice storm. Which is what I ran into.
Wednesday and Thursday was the former, temps up into the 70's at one point. Which is why I brought only my leather jacket. But Friday was a blizzard, a nor'easter. I spent Friday outside cutting and hauling in the snow, mismatched gloves, aforementioned leather jacket and casual business shoes the only protection against the weather.
Friday night and Saturday morning I shoveled. Again and again. The snowblower was inactive, not having gas nor oil in it. I don't know why. My snowlbower was always at the ready, gassed, oiled, poised in the garage like a starving pitbull. If the mower doesn't work, I could always put off cutting the lawn. But if the snowblower is inactive, then you still have to shovel. Scooping up cold, heavy snow. Back-breaking motions. And as I type this, a week later, my back still feels like theres a vice grip squeezing the base of my spine. Wish I had saved some Vicodin.
Of course, the glass is always half full. My flight, while delayed, still got me home only 3 hours late. Which is better than most flying out of the North East.
11 times in the past 10 months, I've crossed the country. And I'm not done quite yet. The house still sits, closer to the market, but still not ready.