Snow, snow and more snow.
It is New England, but really.
Evidently, the answer to that is, “Yes. Really.”
So today I had to put the ‘in theory’ knowledge into practice. If I wanted to make it out of the driveway at any point in the day, I was going to have to bite the snow-covered bullet.
My patient-to-a-fault husband had given me a brief overview of how to run the snowblower, should something that crazy ever be necessary. And yet, sort of like a fire escape plan, you think you’ve got it until you really have to recollect specific details, in order, under pressure…
And you realize you have no idea what to do.
I was undeterred, though. I can read forgoodnesssakes. The quick instructions are right there on the darn thing. And I’ve run machinery much more intimidating than this, I told myself.
My first grievance with said snowblower is false advertising. Sprawled across its shiny red exterior are the words: Electric Start.
But, as I learned the hard way, it is not. You do turn a key. But then you have to pull out the choke. And then crank it.
Easier said than done for a sadly out of shape 42 year old woman whose biggest workout during the day is folding 3 baskets of laundry.
But, thanks to numerous run-ins with uncooperative lawnmowers, I prevailed. I got it started. And then I actually ran it. With albeit limited success. I don’t do well with things that require more than 2 hands. Direct the snow chute? Right brake, left brake? Self-propel? Engage snow blowing? Huh?
I think I heard muffled laughter coming from my neighbor’s direction.
The good news though? My driveway is now cleared. And what I missed with my errant snow-blowing, I shoveled with ol’ reliable. The snow shovel.
Not gonna lie, I didn’t know that it was possible to sweat that much in freezing temperatures.
And I, for a brief moment, considered taking a few pictures… just because I was so proud of my newly-cleared driveway.
But I was too tired.