I donned my cold-weather gear early this afternoon and went out to clear the snow from the area leading to my mail box. The twelve-foot walk on the north side of the house is covered by a deep roof overhang. Because of the wind, the walk had almost as much snow on it as did the open yard. The only disturbances to the blown snow, other than for a few tiny bird tracks, were the deep imprints of the postman's footwear, which had crushed and melted the snow all the way down to the concrete. However, the bitter cold had frozen these footprints into size 13 chunks of ice about a half inch thick. The broom I was using moved the snow easily, but didn't begin to budge the icy reminders of the postman's visit.
My gardening tools include shovels of several sorts but no flat blade shovel, which is what I really needed. As a substitute, I selected a gardening hoe and used it to chip away at the icy footprints. It took me a good fifteen minutes to get the tracks broken up and swept away. I worked up a sweat, and have definitely had my exercise for the day.
The next time I see my postman, I'm going to ask him if he wore heated socks during this most recent snow storm. If he did not, he's got the hottest feet in the country!
* Note: The quotation is NOT the official creed/motto of the United States Postal Service, although it is often referred to as such. I learned that from our good buddies at Wikipedia, in this article.