This is a Yooper Scooper, and a Yooper Scooping

Ok, ok, I’ll admit it. I’m not an official a Yooper (person born in the Upper Peninsula, Michigan). I was born in Illinois, but I think I deserve honorary Yooper status since 3/5ths of my family are official Yoopers, I spent 8 of my childhood years up there, and I lived Yooper style, alone in the woods on Lake Superior for four months.

Being underemployed has its benefits. It makes shoveling large driveways covered in three feet of heavy snow seem like a fun play day, rather than a chore. Friday morning I blasted Mott The Hoople and Woodie Guthrie from my bedroom window, then proceeded to tackle the driveway.

This task was loads of fun as I watched pickup trucks drive by with their powerful plows. As I walked back and forth, scoop by scoop, shoveling the yooper scooper into the stacks of snow, I reminisced about my time up north living on Squaw Beach. One morning I attempted to clear my driveway. It was a near impossible feat. I gave up, stuck my shovel in the snow, took advantage of my Subaru all wheel drive, and blasted into town. When I came home that evening it was if an angel had visited my driveway, in the form of an invisible pickup truck with plow. That was pretty sweet. I was blessed by friendly neighbors. But that was years ago in a far away land. Back to Friday…


I was nearly dancing, ecstatic, back and forth, scoop by scoop, clearing, clearing, clearing, and feeling oh so thankful to not be locked behind a desk in some office or school institution; never mind the fact that it was snowing and blowing so hard that by the time I finished clearing the snow in front of me, there was nearly two new inches of powder behind me. It was a reminder of that lesson we all need to be at peace with. The only constant is change.

Change your hat, change your style, change your prescription, change your perspective.

Midway through this snow clearing project, heated from busting ass, I laid myself down on a pile of untouched snow. I could feel my body heat contrast the frozen snow. I looked up at the sky which was grey and dropping delicate flakes of ice crystals. From this prospective the world seemed so clear, uncluttered, simple and simply joyful. I smiled big teeth to the sky.

Eventually I got up and giggled at myself for the silliness of it all; the silliness of lying in the snow, the silliness of moving this massive amount of snow from side to side, knowing well that there will be twice as much to remove next week. Chris Watkins said it best, all we do is move things from one place to another. Really, that’s it. That’s life. Give it whatever meaning you need to.

The Layers Show

Pink & Black Boots, gifted (thanks mom)
Wool Longies, 2 dollar, Goldmine
Blue Linen Pants, prolly from the Goldmine like 3 years ago
Awesome Snow Pants, gifted (thanks mom)
Silk Turtle Neck, $2 Goldmine
Obnoxiously Blue but Warm Gloves, $1 New Beginnings Thrift
Brown & Yellow Striped Hat, $1 New Beginnings Thrift
Being able to park in the drive, priceless.