The Snow Blower-Man Cometh (But He Sure Takes His Time)

After fifteen years away, returning to a southeastern Ontario winter felt almost nostalgic.Almost.There’s something about that first winter back that tests a person—not dramatically, not heroically, but steadily. Quietly. Repeatedly.You begin with confidence. Experience. A sense that you’ve done this before.Snow is just frozen water. Driveways are manageable. Age is just a number. Pride is harmless.And then winter begins negotiating.In this tale from Clarence Mills, expectation meets reality in small, powdery increments—where routine becomes a test of patience, and simple tasks take on a quiet, persistent weight.What follows is not a tale of catastrophe, but of escalation. Of comparison. Of discovering that others may have solved a problem you are still treating as a character-building exercise.If you’ve ever believed you still had this under control…If you’ve ever found yourself waiting just a little longer than expected…If you’ve ever wondered whether stubbornness and resilience might, at times, be the same thing…You may feel very much at home here.I’ll be right here Thursday morning with another Clarence Mills tale. And if you’d like the next one to arrive without any effort at all, you’re always welcome to follow along.