Yesterday, though the news says we got less than a foot. They are liars. Or at the very least, they didn’t measure at our house.
Before work, Denton cleared about 4″ of snow. Not a lot, but we knew more was coming and we did not need those additional flakes when one of us got home and had to clear again.
As it turns out, when I got home, there was at least 10″ in the drive……and I know from 10″. (bada bing!) Though that would have been hard to navigate anyway, naturally, the plows and other cars had done their damage at the end of the drive.
Since we live at the end of a street, we get folks turning around in the drive. Just enough to pack it down. Let’s compound that with the street plows that covered that packed snow with the 10″ that were actually on the street, but now resided in the first five feet of our drive. Bother!
So I park in the street and trudge my way up the drive to get the snow blower. Since our drive is 80′ long, it is a necessity. But get this! The snow blower won’t turn over. I cannot get it started. Now, I said something much worse than ‘bother’. Much much worse. For miles around, women covered their children’s ears. Rightfully so.
I call Denton, who swears he can fix it when he gets home. I know better than to wait and get out the handy-dandy shovel. I start at the bottom of the drive and dig out about 7 feet. Not bad. I had also dug out a shovel length all the way down the drive too. At this point, I’m tired so I figure, I’ll just dig another length that accommodates the width of our cars. The rest of the snow can wait – right?
Just then, I’m reminded there might be some superior being – I mean, besides Ina Garten….or Aaron Eckard. A private snow plow, truck guy is driving down the street and I hail him like I’m trying to catch a taxi. We negotiated a price. And by that I mean, I asked what he’d charge, he told me and I paid it.
Within a few minutes, we were dug out and I got my car off the street.
As for the snow blower? Well it seems when Denton was using it this morning the key had fallen out. I didn’t notice – clearly. Now the key is probably somewhere in a big big big snow pile at the end of our drive. I’ll look for it in May.
Song by: Linda Rondstadt & Barney Gumble