A lesson on the topic of knowing when to quit, that is.
I let Brave Sir out to play in the snow this afternoon, but after two brief laps around the back yard, he headed for the back door in the hopes of being admitted and heading back to his spot by the fire place. It's not that he doesn't hear the Call of the Wild anymore, it's just that he has caller ID and doesn't always pick up when the wild calls.
As I was out plowing the driveway for the fourth time (!!!) today, I reached the realization that I was pushing around snow that I had no place to put, using gasoline that I did not have. (Yes, I failed to plan ahead well enough to fill the tank on the tractor, but to the positive, I did manage a preparatory trip to the local grocer to stock up on victuals) I parked the tractor and decided that the driveway was as good as I could get it, and if we get anymore snow we will have to use the Power of the Subaru to get through it. As if by divine intervention, the Sun emerged at long last: