It's getting a little harder to greet winter with a cheery smile.

Earlier in the season, I would shovel my driveway out, then a nice path through the gate to the back door, clean all the snow from the back steps, continue shoveling a path around the back and south side of the house, make another little path across to the neighbor's sidewalk so the mailman didn't have to walk that extra few feet back down to the front.

Then I'd shovel clear my front steps, sidewalk and the walkway to the street. It didn't take long, and it felt good to be out in the fresh air, so I'd shovel my neighbor's walk too, whistling all the while. Resisting a temptation to swing around the streetlight a couple times, Fred Astaire style.

But it's mid February now, the luster of winter is starting to wear thin, and I find my shoveling techniques have gotten a smidge sloppy.

After a dismal drive home from a long day at the office, trying to avoid various spinning, sliding vehicles driven by other storm-glazed people, I arrive at the alley entrance, give my car just the right amount of extra gas and a special twist of the wheel to perfectly hurl it around a tight corner and over ruts so cavernous you could sink wheel-deep in them. Then, using the momentum to slide down the alley while pressing the garage door opener, I careen the car from the narrow rutted track, at a sharp 90 degree turn, into my very small driveway.

After kicking ineffectively for a while at the car turds solidly frozen behind each wheel, I wearily grab a shovel from the garage and trudge out front.

The snow on the sides of the steps is piled higher than the top step this time of year, and as I heap it further upwards, it trickles back down onto them. I find that I don't really mind it all that much.

The front walk is kind of the same, the snowpiles on either side of my walk are fairly mountainous, and I no longer feel like whistling while I work. My back hurts.

I notice my front sidewalk has become about a foot narrower than both of my neighbor's front walks, but to hell with them. They're both old and retired and have all day to shovel. They should shovel me out once in a while.

I chip out a very narrow path out to the street. Someone could probably access it to get from the street to the sidewalk if they really need too. They will have to duck-walk sideways, but I figure if they don't like it they can shovel out their own damn path.

A few snowfalls ago I stopped clearing the trail from the back gate, around the side and up to the front of the house. Who'll be needing that anyway? And the mailman? Fat chance I'm spending any time grooming that shortcut. He gets paid to walk, doesn't he? No one pulls me around my office in a special wagon.

My driveway is now about as narrow as it can possibly get, and still accommodate my car. The snow is higher than the backyard fence making it difficult to fling the stuff anywhere. I'm blindly whaling shovelfuls as high as I can, on either side of the drive; the snow sliding off the arcing shovel in great feathery plumes. It's a mess, and I don't care.

I put the shovel back in the garage, close the door, hope for spring.