When we moved to Grand Forks 2 years ago, we inherited a snowblower. It was from Maria's grandparents. It was free, and so we were thankful. But it was also small. And it was finicky, whether due to Troy's clueless care of it (most likely) or simply old age. It was a good snowblower - at one time - but not for North Dakota (South Carolina, maybe). And so, as the snows fell upon us in heaps, and the temperatures dropped below -20F, and "Tiny" then decided on random mornings not to start, or to start and after 30 seconds kill, or to balk at any snow higher than 2.5 inches, Troy's thankfulness slowly waned.
For those of you who lived in climates farther south (which includes everywhere except Canada), you should realize that snowblowing happens at the darkest times of life: at 6am, when work beckons and so do kids; or at 9pm, after evening church meetings are done, and bones are sleepy. ...at these times the birds are not singing "zip-a-dee-doo-dah" outside while happy neighbors pass by. No, snowblowing happens after a big dump has brought subtle depression on the land, seasonal affective disorder is upping everyone's meds, daylight hours are less than 8 each day, everyone cowers inside from frostbite, and it's cold enough to freeze mucus before it leaves your nose. ...Yes, snowblowing happens at the darkest times known to humankind.
And so, "Tiny" is retiring. Rather than sport the cash for a tuneup for "Tiny," today Troy splurged instead at Lowe's on a snowblowing beast (208 cc, roughly 8hp), with his name on it (it's a Troy-bilt). Upon getting it home, Troy started it up with a pull, and cut a 6-foot path through the 16-inch drift alongside the driveway with as much effort as pressing a hot knife through butter. ...and Troy smiled.Bring on the snow. The beast is ready. ...and Troy is much more OK with winter.
1 comment:
Wow!! That thing is awesome!
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