Snowblower Blues

Last year I bought a big, powerful Troy-Bilt Snowblower. Just chews through snow like it’s something softer than snow that I can’t think of at the moment.

With last week’s hecticness, I didn’t get the snowblower ready for the storm that dumped unacceptable quantities of white stuff, unbidden, upon our driveway. Despite my best but futile efforts, I couldn’t get the snowblower running.

And so, I reverted to the lowly shovel. It’s actually quite a marvel of technology. No batteries. No gas and oil to mix. No string to pull. Just pick it up and start heaving. And then go to the chiropractor.

Meanwhile, my lovely Troy-Bilt stares at me from the garage, keeping warm, still hibernating, refusing to pay its keep. As I shoveled, just imagine how much disgust I was swallowing.

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