It’s dumping white stuff here right now. I’m guessing we’ve received about four inches of snow (based on the height of the accumulation on the car), and there’s no signs of it stopping.
Whitey called me from work to ask where the snow shovel was, and we both paused and spoke at the same time about the same thing.
Jim was our mystery snow shoveler last year who would show up and clear our sidewalks. In return, we’d buy he and his wife, Erma, a pizza and a pitcher of beer once a week.
Erma came in to the restaurant recently to let us know that Jim had passed away. He went up fishing and was planning on staying the night in his truck. He ended up freezing to death.
Within a week or so, Erma had packed up and moved to an assisted living facility.
And so life goes.
Rest in peace Jim.