I take full responsibility

 

 New toys.  I used to think getting excited about shiny new things was childish.

I've changed my mind: why deny such simple pleasures?

--provided I can also take full credit--for the end of our run of snow.*  That's right: my new store-bought snowshoes have arrived, ending the snow and bringing on a week of thaw.  (This on the converse principle that hanging clean wash on the line and getting it just dry is pretty sure to attract a rain shower.)

On the one hand, many eastern Massachusetts residents rather wish that we'd broken that record for snowiest year--recompense for all the shoveling, lost work hours, and lost business.)  But this thaw is welcome, anyway.  For my part, I haven't been able to walk anywhere for weeks; the city gave up on plowing sidewalks after the first few storms, and walking in the street is just too risky.  The snowshoes give me another option, if not always a practical one in a city like this.  

After learning how the bindings work, and figuring out how to put them on without falling over, I took a short stroll last night in the crunchy, rough snow that is still a foot deep in most places--just as proof of concept.  Then I put them away in the trunk of my car, with the idea that they would be most available to me in the circumstances I'd be most likely to want them.  Already I am thinking that a daytrip in Hobamock Swamp would be just the thing.    

But even if I don't use them this year, I like just having them--in the same way I used to keep my backpack in my room packed and provisioned as a teenager, with the idea that I could hit the trail with little notice, even if I never really did.  

Peace of mind.

*I know I can't really take credit.  My neighbor with the new snowblower might also be a factor.