Clearing the Ice Jam

This has not been my favourite winter, and today has not been my favourite day this winter.

It seems everyone is looking for people to clear roofs. I suspect that people began to fear the worst might happen when the bungalow roof in Ottawa collapsed last week, the three women in the Laurentians were killed when a warehouse roof caved in, and several local schools were evacuated till their roofs could be cleared.

I called Peter, the home inspector who has a home repairs column in the Low Down. He told me to get the snow cleared off the roof and he would come to assess the situation on Tuesday. He said not to feel too bad; that I was far from alone. He recommended someone in Wakefield, but said he might be too busy because he had been referring people to him all week. I asked what he charged, and Peter said he didn't know ... but it really didn't matter, did it? I laughed. What else can you do?

I tried calling him, but the answering machine for his cell phone was filled to capacity. I phoned a neighbour to see who had cleared his roof. When I called that man, his wife said there was no way he'd be able to help; he was far too overloaded already. When I asked if she knew anyone, she said she'd call if they thought of someone.

So I made several phone calls before I reached Tom who arrived with two guys, several ladders and shovels and proceeded to attack the snow mounded on the roof. Kenya has been hiding under furniture ever since they started. Up here in my den, immediately underneath the place where they are working right now to clear the ice, it is harrowing. They are hammering and banging and snow keeps shooting past the windows. I keep expecting one of them to burst through the ceiling, shovel in hand, especially when they start to slide and fall on the ice they are trying to dislodge. Everything shakes in the room ... my computer, the phone, the printer and pens ... all the things on my desk.



I had the foresight to bring both shovels inside with me when they first arrived. I had been using one to attack the enormous mound of snow that came off the shed roof yesterday. This photo shows how much snow was there when Tom and his guys arrived.

After they finished with the first load of soft snow I went out to shovel a path from the back door. The snow was mounded halfway up the frame. I cleared a small path, just enough to allow us to get out. The back door won't close now.

Sam woke up scared. I understand because it is nerve wracking listening to them fighting with the ice jam. It is as if giants are holding a party in a bowling alley upstairs. They seem to be having a step dancing contest and then throwing bowling balls down with all their might onto a hard floor. I have to keep reminding myself that there are only three normal sized men above my head.

This year of the great snows has kept everyone busy. The people who plow snow have been overworked all winter, and any who worked on contract lost money. The ski hill operators and these guys clearing roofs may be the only winners in this hellish winter of all winters.