Tag Archives: snowblowing

Adventures In Snowblowing

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Obvioulsy this isn’t my first rodeo. But that doesn’t mean I do things the easy way, or the right way, or the common sense way or any other way that YOU would do things. And that’s ok. That’s not the point of life.

We are in the middle of a March snow storm similar to alllll of the other March snow storms we have had in the past kazillion years of Central New York. This one was hyped and this one actually lived up to the hype. Good for Stella. Yeah, they named it. Stella. Or “STELLLLAAAAAAAAA!!!!”. There was a State of Emergency declared for the entire state and anyone caught driving in my county would be ticketed. Great. Everything was closed including the POST OFFICE!!!!! Yup, that’s right. No mail. It was sleeting, storming and dark of night-ing and the 2017 mailmen said “nope”.

I guess the powers-that-be have finally figured out that snow storms kill people. People actually think that their job is worth dying (or killing) for and the big wigs decided that people are just wrong. So, they close everything and that’s that.

Now, back to me and my fantastic story of pointlessness and annoyance and a little bit of genius.

Last night, at 10:30, after I took my ambien, I decided to go out and snow blow. To get a jump on the morning crappola. I bundled up, sort of, and squeeze out the front door because the snow was so high I could only open the door maybe 6 inches (or a foot, but lets pretend I haven’t gained 50 pounds and I can still squeeze through tiny spaces) and stepped into over 3 feet of snow. Wow. I sort of swim/fall/march to the back yard where the snowblower is and I knock the snow off and prime it and pull the string thing about 100 times. Nothing. I know it needs gas. I know damn well it needs gas and I had even put the gas can NEAR the snowblower like last week in anticipation of getting gas. Which I did not do because duh. Before I got pissed, I went in the basement and grabbed the extension cord and plugged it in and pushed the button and TA DA!!! It started (that’s the little bit of genius part). I did two passes in the driveway and had just started on the third when the damn thing died. No gas.

I looked at my car long and hard. It’s a wonderful Rav 4 and it knows how to drive in the snow. But does it really feel like driving up the driveway in 4 feet of snow? Let’s find out. I kicked around in the general area of where I think I left the gas can, find it, pull it out of the 6 feet of snow and grab the shovel. I shovel off the snow from the top of the car and hop in. I can’t really see anything because snow, but I’ve lived here for 10 years. I know how the driveway goes. And I go…until I stop. In the middle of the damn driveway. *sigh* ok. Looks like I am walking to the gas station.

The good part is that the gas station in only 2 blocks away. The bad part is the village hadn’t plowed the sidewalks or the street so I was literally high stepping thru 11 feet of snow to the gas station in the blinding blizzard with a wind chill of -20. All for nought. The gas station was closed. Of course it was. Everything was closed. It was a state of emergency and no one was supposed to leave their homes otherwise Stella was gonna get ’em.

And then there’s me.

So, I walk back through the chest high snow to my house and squeeze back through the front door and strip and go to bed. Well, first I sat and cried about my frostbit knee region and then I went to bed.

Next morning. I get up, bundle up sort of and walk to the gas station with my gas can. I start filling it and gas just pours out everywhere because the bottom corners are cracked. Ha ha ha. This is so funny. I went inside and asked if they had a gas can and the girl was all “Um…no.” And I was like “Ha ha ha. This is so funny.” And she was like “Um, let me check in the back” And low and behold! A gas can! Now, I have gas all over my hands and mittens from the gas fountain that was the old gas can so I stink and I can taste it and I may or may not be a little loopy from the fumes. I fill up the brand new gas can and kick thru 15 feet of snow, UP hill. I stop to chat with my neighbor who is out shoveling and then onward to snow-blow. I fill ‘er up and get to gettin.

Up the driveway I blow, to the end that is plowed in with snow that is literally over my head. Annnnddddd….stuck. I do my patented Hip Rocking Talk Out Loud To It method and 15 minutes later I am unstuck. Big Guy with Little Dog walks by smiling. I reek of gasoline and sweat and fear and I smile back.I snow blowed for over an hour. I did snow blow thru The Great Wall of Snow at the end of the driveway. Patience and perseverance are two qualities one must have when snowblowing. Really don’t need those qualities for anything else so go ahead and get rid of them as soon as you are done with blowing snow.

The moral of the story is this : Pay a plow guy. Or maybe live in Arizona. Or possibly keep the snowblower filled with gas during the winter or just learn how to hibernate? You decide. 

Spencer And The Snowstorm

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Happy Mutts

Happy Mutts

We got over a foot and a half of snow last night. Spencer is about a foot and a
half tall. So, when I let him out this morning he went sledding down the back
stairs and belly flopped into the snow where he was immediately covered by the
avalanche from the roof because I slammed the door. Oh it was funny!!! I laughed
and laughed at him!! He crawled out and walked in a circle 3 times and then
stood still. I assume he was peeing but all I could see of him was his head and
the top of his back. He may have just been contemplating the best revenge for me
laughing at him.

I was all ready to start snow blowing. I was still in my PJ’s but I had on my
scarf, hat, gloves and boots. I knew this was not going to be a fun project. My
car was buried and my driveway is on an incline. And it is single wide meaning
that only one car can fit down or up the driveway. I do have a turn around area.
I knew I would have to snowblow the turn around also because there was no way I
could back up and out of the driveway. Ok, so, now I was procrastinating,
wondering how a plow guy could do it…where I should start…wondering if my
neighbors will totally laugh at me snow blowing in my PJ’s and wondering if I
care if they do….Meanwhile, Spencer is doing his damndest to get back up the
stairs.

To his credit, he was trying to dig around where he thought the stair was. He
knew that I was going to be of NO help as I stood there giggling at him. He was
mumbling under his breath as he dug. But really, it’s not like he was going to
put his superior digging skills to use for MY sake. He was not going to help me
dig out the car. He finally realized that he does not have the ability to stand
on one stair and dig on the next, so he starts barking at me.

I did all the dumb things I did when he got himself stuck upstairs. I tried
encouraging him, I tried dragging him, I thought about trying to carry him. I
was trying to avoid shoveling. I had to have a goal if I was going to get thru
this snow hell and my goal was to not use a shovel, only the snow blower.
Spencer was not going to ruin my goal before I even got started. Who’s the
evolved one here? I went up the stairs kicking snow out of the way, now both of
us are muttering under our breath.

Spencer is back inside now and Emma, the smartest one in the family, had refused
to come out at all. She rather pee on the rug than slide down the stairs. Who
can blame her, really? Ok, now I am ready to snow blow. First task was to find
the snow blower which was buried completely under all the snow. I started
kicking and digging around where I think I had left it. Score! And it starts!!
So far so good! But this is really wet, heavy snow and I kept getting stuck. As
I have no upper body strength, I have to put my hips into it, with a rocking
motion. I am sure this looks like some fetish video. Being in my PJ’s with an
assortment of winter accessories on I think makes the entire thing hysterical.
Now, I am snow blowing, getting stuck, doing my snow blower dance and laughing
hysterically by myself.Oh and talking to the snow blower. It started stalling
out so I would then say “Come ON! You’re a snow blower, this is what you DO!
What you were built for!! You can do it! It’s your moment to shine!!!” It
crossed my mind to actually cross the street to the neighbors to see if they
were finding this as funny as I was…

I got one pass done and I turn around and there is Spencer, pooping on the
cleared 1 foot by 1 foot area of driveway. I was astonished to see him
there,looking right at me, pooping where I had just snow blowed. And he was
laughing too. Like that was his revenge. Whatever. I kept going which kind of
scared him. He didn’t know which way to go. He knew I was watching so he
shouldn’t go up the driveway, but that was really the only way to go as I hadn’t
snowblowed anything else yet. He turned in a few circles and then went up the
stairs and ran through the door, which had blown open. I was still laughing at
the hilarity of the situation. Me and my goofiness and Spencer and his choice of
space to poop. Ha ha ha!

My second thought was “I better remember the poop is there because I don’t want
to step in it or snow blow it and have poopcicles fly all over the yard. That
would be just my luck! That is what happened every time I used the weed wacker!!
Oh spring…I can’t wait till…POOP!!!!” And yes, not only had I snow blowed the
fresh poop, but then I stepped in it. Just in case you had ever wondered, dog
poop smell overpowers exhaust fumes. And apparently chilled fresh dog poop stick
to boots better than even room temperature dog poop. Pretty sure I didn’t
needed to know that. Spencer’s revenge was sweet, in a sense. No kids, that is NOT
chocolate snow…..