The Snow Slide

One winter day large snow flakes floated lazily down to earth. It was not long before they were no longer floating but pelting. To the oldsters the storm was a 'noreaster' and we were in for it. After two days about the length of the yardstick measured the snow's depth.

My father and I helped my grandfather to shovel the snow from the walks. Our shoveling had created a large pile of snow to the right of the front porch steps. Looking up, Grandpa noticed the snow on the slanting slate roof over the porch. He decided it was high time that he clean the snow off the porch roof. Armed with the snow shovel he climbed the stairs to the second floor. Opening a window he leaned out and started to push the snow off the roof with the shovel.

Next Grandpa sat on the sill and leaned forward to get more leverage. Then the shout "Lookout below - I'm coming down." He was sliding feet first down the slate roof into space, and landed in the piled snow.

Arising from the snow pile he retrieved the snow shovel and headed into the house. As he started back up the stairs, grandmother looked up from her crocheting and said "I thought you were upstairs shoveling the snow off the roof?"

"I was - I certainly was," he replied and continued on up the stairs with the shovel in hand.