Raked the roof again this aft. For the record,
third raking of the season.
As I was clattering the aluminum rake down the roof, I heard another clattering behind me. Hmm. The neighbor back there has never raked. What's going on?
Looked around, saw that the clattering wasn't aluminum. It was antlers.
Two of these deer were having a gentle play-fight with their antlers. They weren't bothered in the slightest when I got off the ladder, put the ladder away, walked into the house, walked out with the camera, and snapped several crappy pictures. They just kept grazing.
Random sidenote: If curling can be a sport, why not competitive roof raking? There is a fair bit of strategy in placing the ladder, judging the depth and iciness of the snow, and reaching the maximum height. A sneaky competitor could spoil his opponent's dismount by quietly letting a herd of deer into the yard behind the opponent's back.
Jan 1: Fourth raking, for the record.
Jan 9: Fifth raking, for the record.
Jan 12 through 18: Sixth and seventh, I think. It was hectic for a while, but it PAID OFF. Now that we've finally got a thaw after four weeks of supercold, I'm free of ice dams and both sides of the roof are flowing nicely, nearly bare.
Feb 4: Eighth raking after a welcome two-week break in snow.
= = = = =
A couple more random thoughts:
Waist-high snowbanks are inconvenient in most ways, preventing you from using sidewalks even when the walks are clear. But a hard bank provides a handhold to prevent falling, and a place to set things when you need to pause and gather energy or retie shoes. It's almost like walking down an aisle with railings and counters on both sides.
The luckiest roofs in snow are the unlucky houses that still carry blue tarps from the windstorms of 2014 and 2015. The blue plastic is the most perfect snow-shedder of all. Snow simply WILL NOT stick to those tarps.