New snow piled on top of old snow.
As I was running down my street, heading out for a quick jaunt, I had my first sighting of the elusive snow blower.
In Central Indiana we get one or two hefty snows a winter. We moan and complain about it, but honestly, we're pretty much lightweights. This isn't Minnesota.
That doesn't stop Lowe's and Ace Hardware and Home Depot from suckering guys into buying snow blowers.
No one likes shoveling snow. And some people simply can't. I can. I choose not to. If the car can make it up the driveway, it's good enough for me. It will melt soon enough.
But for the do-it-yourselfer who couldn't resist 15% off of a gas-powered SnowChucker3000 last February, this is his day. Today, he gets to back the car out, pull the tarp off of that manly red machine, pull it from the back of the garage, yank on the starter cord a couple dozen times, and then, for 20 minutes, he's king of the block.
The rooster tail of snow arcing into the side yard is a big middle finger to those who doubted him (cough, cough, his wife, cough). Just look how far it throws that snow. That's worth $450 right there. Sure, the high school kid next door offered to shovel it for $20, but he can't throw the snow nearly that far.
All too soon, the driveway and sidewalk are clear. He's run out of snow to throw. He takes a moment to soak in his accomplishment. Then, he puts his winter workhorse back in the corner of the garage until next year, and puts the car back, if he didn't beached it in the snow out on the street.
Me, in my neon jacket and tights and ridiculous shoes, I give him a wave and run on, slipping and sliding, hoping not to fall on my ass. He, with his rotund middle and beet-red face, waves back. I imagine he probably thinks I'm the idiot.
Meh, different strokes...
Good running,
Doug
Numbers: 3.0 miles on snowy and slushy streets.
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