Take this job and shovel it

Opinion

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This article was published 10/01/2022 (1080 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

A Winnipeg politician was woken up early Saturday morning and looked out the window. And what to his wondering eyes did appear? But a massive snowfall and his shovelling wife, what a dear.

And what did he do? Waverley MLA Jon Reyes took a photo and posted it on Twitter, saying, “Even after a 12 hour night shift at the hospital last night, my wife still has the energy to shovel the driveway. God bless her and all our front-liners. Time to make her some breakfast.”

Awww. This didn’t go over well on social media. But then what does?

His wife, Cynthia Reyes, explained later that she was doing it happily. “As I pulled up to my driveway, I felt energy to shovel the snow that fell all night and into the morning,” she said, describing a “great workout,” a “refreshing” interlude after a day in an N95 mask. “Most importantly, I enjoy it.”

I understand this. Shovelling fresh snow is one of winter’s greatest pleasures. When snow is bright, light and white, as it is in the drier north as opposed to damp Toronto, it’s a joy to behold. It could be a winter landscape by Lawren Harris or Rockwell Kent, short on humans.

The sparkle of it, the clarity, its freshness unmarked by any human footprint, it lightens the heart. Imagine removing the mask, breathing clean cold frontier air, and working alone in silence, no beeping, codes, cries, smells, conversations, sobbing, shouting.

Dr. Darren Markland, @drdagly, a nephrologist, works in the ICU of an Edmonton hospital. He posted a photo this week: “This is my hospital. I feel her breath. Those who work here feel her tidal swings with the changing of shifts. In and out. Sometimes almost gasping.”

And he mountain-bikes back and forth to work along the city’s beautiful snowy trails. His photos are extraordinary, the silent snowfall, the trees wearing heavy curves of white, the solitude, the barefaced freedom to breathe, it all restores him.

I do think women shovel better than men do, an enjoyably invidious comparison. Yes, men are bigger and stronger but they have no eye for detail — perhaps this is why women make better surgeons, at least of female bodies — or for symmetry and edging. They have little pride in the product.

Worse, they go at it so madly that middle-aged men frequently have heart attacks while shovelling. Unaccustomed to exercise, unwilling to rest, often unsuitably dressed for snow, they court disaster.

When I shovel a driveway, it looks immaculate. I take tea breaks and push snow rather than lift. Clear off the car first. You learn that the hard way.

Formal exercise has always puzzled me. Why not do physical tasks that improve your world? A shovelled driveway and sidewalk is a moral statement, good and good for you, as Cynthia said.

“We share different chores,” she wrote, “not based on any gender; but mostly on who is available to do it.” This is the secret of getting along: when you see something that needs doing, do it. My husband cooks, I clean. I do boring life admin, he deals with raccoons and the furnace.

I no longer shovel; we no longer have a driveway. I miss it. Canada’s two solitudes: the shoveller and the shovelled for.

Heather Mallick is a Toronto-based columnist covering current affairs for the Star. Follow her on Twitter: @HeatherMallick