Well fucking, fucking A.
What a small town.
So damn much snow and a berm four feet high at the top of the driveway (we live on a county-plowed road - but when it plows, the plow creates a berm on the side of the road and, therefore, across the top of our driveway). I've been putting off snowblowing (and hand digging the berm - the action of the plow creates chunks and the berm usually takes some hand shoveling at least).
Loud sounds out front make me think the snow plow is coming by again and so I go look. And it's some guy in a four wheel drive, chain equipped truck, plowing our driveway! What the hell?
So I go out to thank him and offer some cash. But first I ask him why he's done our driveway? It turns out that he's supposed to have done the address that ends in 90, not 60. I offer him the dough in thanks anyway and he adamantly refuses. And then we spend 10 minutes talking about our community and all the many people we know in common (but isn't that last part mandatory in places so small)?
Thanks Rick, what a nice gift on a very snowy day.