There was a time when weather like this did not bother me one bit. In fact, I relished the thought of going outside and playing in the snow. Nowadays, too much of that playing involves a shovel. And that's where my back has something to say about it.

I can honestly state that it's been years since my back bothered me. Well, that changed recently when I picked up a shovel, only to be greeted by lower back pangs the next day. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe not. Maybe Eli, my 17-year-old, doesn't care as much about money as he used to, but I'd bet that's not the case. I'm thinking that for the right rate of pay, he'll be back out there shoveling snow again.

It's kind of the same in the summer, only it's easier to mow the lawn in 70-degree temperatures than it is to shovel the snow when it's 20-below zero. I know the temperatures don't help. After all, how many of us - who aren't wrestlers, at least - want to go out and run around town or do anything in below-zero weather? You have to admire those wrestlers. I see them running in the mornings and wonder what motivates them. Then I picture one of them on a podium with a gold medal around his neck and it's all too clear what motivates them. I wish them all the best of luck, on the roads and on the mat and, hopefully, on the podium. Hard work should be rewarded.

So what are we rewarded with by shoveling or clearing snow with our snow blowers? Well, for starters, a clean driveway and sidewalk, one necessary for travel and the other necessary to avoid a ticket and watching and then paying for somebody to do it anyway. It works the same way in the summer. It's mow or pay somebody else to do it for you, a lesson learned by more than one of my neighbors on Division Street through the years.

Back in the day, we were never paid. We mowed for our breakfast, shoveled for lunch and didn't complain or we'd get nothing and be thankful for it. And we walked uphill to school, carrying buckets of water in each hand, uphill in both directions - or at least that's the way some of our ancestors describe it - going 33 miles each way. Actually, we did walk a lot. Or skated. Seriously. I remember when they didn't plow much in town and the streets would become so caked with ice and snow that my brother could actually skate many blocks to Trowbridge Park. I also remember the night some friends gave him a ride home. We were really worried - or at least I was - because it looked like he was badly hurt. I don't remember what actually happened to him, though, so it couldn't have been too bad. You know what? He could really be a wimp at times.

But that's beside the point and will remain another story for another time. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Back to the snow shoveling story.

Like I said, it's been years since my back last bothered me, and I'm here to tell you that an aching back is nothing to joke about. If I have to describe it to you, there's no way you can understand. If you, like me, has ever had a sore back, there's no need to explain. You know about it.

But shoveling is, unfortunately, something we have to deal with here in the North country. Either that or move to Texas or Bullhead City, Arizona for the winter, and I'm just not quite ready for that yet.

Maybe in a few years. Maybe in a couple years. Maybe next year. Then again, maybe not.

For now, at least, I'll hang around here and make the best of it.

Here's hoping you're making the best of your winter.