I had just stepped inside from a third round of snow shoveling when I heard the sound of a tractor in the yard. And who should appear but Santa—er, Bob Lindquist—to finish the job I had not managed to complete. He smiled and he waved and he bladed the drive clean, and with a "Merry Christmas!" drove away to help more neighbors. People like Bob are why small towns are THE place to live.
The world needs more Santa Bobs. My neighborhood needs at least one. Three trips out with the shovels, and still it snows. Jeez.
I feel for you.
Believe me, this morning I feel all kinds of muscles I forgot I had, and every one of them is screaming.
Bob's a great guy. I just hope I can pay it back now...
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