It says something about a person when they find themselves writing about raking leaves or shoveling their driveway. What does it say? I’ll leave that up to you, kind reader. You have autonomy to make whatever sense of the words you find here. Whether I grant it to you or not. That’s how freewill works. And, like it or not, we have freewill.
I am exercising my freewill to write about shoveling this week. I can’t say that is a good use of my freewill, but I can’t say it is a bad use, either.
We write about what we know. And here, from the first snowstorm of 2025, I know something about shoveling my driveway.
***
“It’s starting to snow!” my son Samson howled from the sunroom.
“Oooooo! Let me see,” my son Solomon squealed as he ran to look.
“Cool,” I said, with all the enthusiasm of a 45-year-old man playing the newest edition of John Madden Football on his couch. I didn’t squeal. I didn’t run to look. But I won’t pretend that I don’t enjoy the first snow. The world is covered in white and I have an excuse to remain on my couch, leading the Las Vegas Raiders to a 4-0 start. Take that, Pete Carroll.
My first decision as coach of the Raiders was to bench Geno Smith, trade for Jalen Milroe, and implement the ugliest ball control offense you’ve ever seen. Mike Ditka would be proud.
Maybe I decided to take over as the coach for Las Vegas because I traveled there for the first time to attend the annual meeting of the Literacy Research Association last week. That’s a long sentence. I’m not going to shorten it. Or maybe I chose the Raiders because I like their uniforms. Regardless, I called another option play as the boys buried themselves in snow in the backyard.
***
We bought a shovel for Samson the day before the storm.
My wife Katie and I were at Ace Hardware to purchase a new doorknob for Samson’s room. His broke. We learned this when he texted us from his bedroom:
“I’m stuck in here,” he sent from his Apple Watch.
We rescued him and went to Ace Hardware and there was a shovel next to the checkout counter.
“Should we buy this for Samson?” Katie asked.
Sure. We both know Solomon wouldn’t be out shoveling. Samson loves doing chores. Solomon doesn’t. Neither do I. And yet I found myself installing a doorknob. Here’s a picture:
I think this pictures makes me look chubby. You should see the picture I didn’t upload. I look like I ate all of Thanksgiving. I’m learning to not care about what I look like. Chubbiness be damned. I don’t need my mother’s eating disorder. Nobody does.
The day after installing the doorknob, Samson and I were out shoveling the driveway. He’s a hard worker. I admire that about him. His brother Solomon is hard worker too, just in different ways. Solomon learns Beethoven songs and Samson shovels the driveway. They’re good kids. I admire them both.
Let it snow, my friends. And let me write about whatever I write about. Freewill.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 