Last night and today brought ten inches or more of heavy snow to my neck of the woods–another opportunity to consider aligning my personal values with my snow removal needs. Having owned a snowblower for only a year, I’ve struggled with this dilemma since the day I removed it from its giant box. I never really wanted one. It felt like more of a need than a want. After a few really big snowfall winters–the kind where there’s no place left to put the snow and the driveway looks like a tunnel–I thought I should have one, just in case. Let’s just say shoveling can take its toll on one’s body.

Some storms just aren’t easy to handle. In the case of this latest storm, although beautiful, the snow was heavy.

I started shoveling, focusing on the peace and quiet, the health benefits, and generally enjoying the task. My driveway isn’t long, but heavy snow makes for slow going. I also shovel various paths in the backyard: to the compost heap, here and there for the dogs, and to the gate.

Past experience has shown me that shoveling it all, under easy–six-inch or so–conditions, takes about the same amount of time as using the snowblower. After shoveling, I feel warm and well exercised. After snowblowing, I am cold, wet and smell like exhaust fumes. Hence, my goal to use the shovel whenever conditions are “easy.”

A few weeks ago, I learned about the wovel. This strange-looking, wheeled shovel, a hybrid of a shovel and a wheelbarrow, is supposed to clear snow faster and with less back strain than a shovel. Its fans claim that it works as well as a snowblower, without the noise, fumes and environmental impact. A friend took the leap and purchased one and has been waiting for a good storm to test it. If it’s as good as it sounds, it could be my ticket out of my dilemma.

Today, I needed more than the shovel to get the job done. At peace with the idea of starting up the snowblower, I uncovered the beast, picked the beginnings of another mouse nest out of the motor housing, filled it with gasoline and prepared to start it up.

Nothing.

I don’t get along very well with engines and machines. I repeated the magic sequence of steps and, still, nothing. Back to shoveling I went, but with a little less joy, now full of the frustration that only wrestling with a silent machine can bring.

I completed at least a third of the job with a shovel before finally getting the snowblower started.

Tired by now, I was grateful for the snowblower’s help and even ready to forgive its unrelenting noise and fumes. My dogs are grateful for the paths in the backyard, especially the one that provides speedy, unimpeded access to the compost heap. Although I didn’t intend to split the task in this way, I accomplished a good compromise: exercise and clean air, followed by a half hour of efficient (although noisy and smelly) snowblowing. Not as bad as it could have been.

I can’t wait to hear how JordanCornblog’s woveling went today. If the news is good, there could be a good as new snowblower for sale soon. Or, I suppose I could make a certain homeless mouse family very happy by tucking it away in my shed, just in case.