We're headin' out to the coast today. It's snowing about an inch an hour and I have to go clear the driveway and knock the snow off the truck and hope I don't have to do it again once we get the whole travellin' salvation show loaded up. Not that I can't get out of the driveway, but I'd like a chance, however slight, that I can get back in on Saturday. Believe me, clearing the driveway after a 400 mile drive just to get the truck off the street is worse than doing it before the drive. I've done it before and may have to do it again.
Then there's the drive itself. Right now, I-80 is closed in at least the eastbound direction, but this changes from minute to minute depending on how many idiots come to a 'circular misunderstanding' and park it in the snowbank or end up on their roof. It's looking like at least fifty miles in four wheel drive at 30 mph. If the road is open when I get there. Been there, done that, doing it again.
It's the price I pay to live in Paradise. Without the 72 virgins. Hell, there ain't 72 of those within a hundred miles. But I digress...
Signin' off now. Things to do. See ya when I see ya.
Update:
Discretion being the better part of of valor, we cancelled our trip.
I cut one swath down the criveway to the street and the 'thrower broke its drive wheel in three pieces and threw a track. Snow thwow no go no mo'. There was a plow clearing our neighbor's driveway and the operator agreed to plow me out for a Jackson, which is dirt cheap. Me 'n my broken snowthrower rode up the driveway in the loader bucket. Whee! He was runnin' on the edge of late like all private plows and took off before I could pay him. I'm sure he'll be back.
Somewhere, and I can't remember exactly where, I slipped on a fresh-plowed place and landed on the back of my head. Rang my bell pretty good. It hurts from that little knob down my neck and out to my shoulders. The 800mg Ibu is kickin' in but I don't want to be out on the road and realize I'm hurt to the point where I need a doctor.
That and the fact that I can't plow myself back in if I need to convinced me to suggest we go for Christmas instead. Mrs. G agreed and that was it.
I'm damn glad I don't have to deal with the non-inclement-weather-drivin'-pukes public as well.
It just wasn't in the cards. The omens were not good. The way de bones landed was not encouraging.
This snowthrower, like Fixer's range, served me well for many (16) years and doesn't owe me a damn thing. Mrs, G has been after me to get a new one anyway and we're arguing about whether to get the $900 Craftsman 357cc 33-inch cut job with wheels or the 928 Honda tracked rig for $2900. She wants me to get the Honda, which is the ne plus ultra of snowthrowers, and says we're not getting any younger and it'll probably be the last one we need. Since I'm the el cheapo around here, I counter with we're not getting any richer either. We will see, and husbands know how that goes. I guess when I slam it sideways for the last time and brakeslide up to the Pearly Gates I might as well be broke too. Heh.
I'll fix the 'thrower of course, but a new one would be nice.
All you folks take it real easy out there. Read the comments.
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