Just a few minutes ago, I heard this noise outside of my house. Sounded like a snowblower. Not an unusual noise in itself, really, because I live in a neighborhood with lots of houses close together, and we’ve been getting pummelled with the snow here. But the noise was oddly close to my own house.
So I looked outside, and there was this older gentleman, snowblowing my driveway, and from the looks of it, he’d also done the sidewalk and several other driveways for the whole block.
I opened the door, and waved at him frantically. I managed to get his attention, and I told him that if he could come back later, I would happily give him some money (my husband isn’t home right now, and he’s got the cash at the moment). I don’t have a snowblower (or a shovel–we broke it trying to dig out earlier this week), so I was MOST appreciative of this gentleman’s efforts.
He just smiled and waved me off, then moved on down the block.
As I was typing this, I had a realization–I know who the gentleman is. He was all bundled up, so I didn’t get a good look at his face, but now I remember. He’s Joe, my next-door neighbor. The same guy that mowed my front lawn all summer, because our lawns are connected. I could never catch him doing it, though–he always did it when we weren’t home.
What a nice, nice man. I’m going to go crochet something for Joe, and leave it on his porch, when he’s not there.
