As the temperature warmed during the week, I knew there was to be some work done around the house. Friday, I attacked the accumulated ice on the back entrance of the house. As the late sun warmed the packed snow, it responded well to being chopped and scraped; at least for a decent bit around the back step and approach. After a few paces, it became more tenacious and so I left it to its futile grip. As the sun will now be baking the blacktop near it, the ice will retreat inexorably.
Saturday started more peacefully and ended very well. The meeting of the Minnesota Science Fiction Society was at the home of friends and also promised a dessert party followed by music. I arrived in the nick of time to help prepare for the laying out of desserts. As I helped one friend serve the pears poached in Chardonnay he had prepared, I watched our hostess keep herd on the large variety of activities that were taking place. As things calmed down, I stepped in to prepare the dessert I had brought: strawberries with balsamic vinegar. It worked well, I think.
Late in the evening, musicians arrived and dining room was transformed from dessert serving to music making. I walked back out to the car and brought in my bodhran. As things coalesced, I grabbed a spot on a stool in the back of the room to sing and play along. Music drifted and mingled late into the night. My tipping hand and arm grew sore but my mood lightened greatly.
My right hand still bothered me a bit on Sunday, but Sunday was the day to attack the ice on the front walk. This was more determined ice than that in back and it resisted efforts to chop it free of the underlying concrete. I persevered, encouraged by the water I found beneath the ice. Eventually, I carved a path down one half of the front walk, barely wider than one thickness of the ice chopper. Both my arms ached from the exertion and I gave in to the ice for the day. More sun and mild temperatures are promised for the next few days. The ice cannot win.
My shoulders and hands ache today. The payment for the weekend's efforts. It was worth it. I suppose that means I'm still young.