To unknown HRM snowplow guy

Back in early February, as you swung round the corner onto my street to come face to face with me as I tossed the last shovelful of snow out of my driveway, I confess I looked daggers at you, and you stopped dead in your tracks. Then you proceeded to plow (it's your job after all) and maneuvered your best to push 80 percent of that dirty snow and ice chunks onto the grass verge instead of my driveway as you passed, but I still glared daggers at you—SORRY.  You shrugged apologetically, and had to move on. Yesterday evening (March 5) I heard prolonged snowplow noise, went out and was amazed to see yes, the plow had been by—again—but my driveway was almost empty. I noticed the swirled, fat tire tracks in the foot of the driveway and in the street: again some snowplow guy doing his pirouetting best to keep my driveway snow-free as he passed doing his job. Was it YOU again?? Just wanted to thank you for this kindness 'cos you certainly don't owe me anything. —Appreciative South End Three-Story Walk-Up Dweller (With a Sore Back)

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