I started a long and meaningful post a few weeks ago about starting over, moving on, doors that open, blah blah blah. It was really nice, but really, no one wants to hear me wax poetic about that junk. I re-read it for some editing and discovered that most of the contents were just things I needed to hear myself say out loud. Now that that’s done, we can go back to the normal nonsense that you all have come to expect from yours truly.
It’s nasty cold here in New Hampshire. I gave up complaining about it last week, as there’s just nothing to do about it. I have moved back to the frozen tundra and I just need to wear more wool.
Which is exactly what I should have done this morning.
It was 10 degrees here. Nasty cold. Because I am nice, I drive the Mini to the bus stop in the morning, and I pick her up in the afternoon. Normally, I go back inside, make more coffee and crawl back into bed to stare at the TV until it’s an hour conducive to normal brain activity. (9 am is good, I think. Before that it’s all drool and crankiness)
But today. Today was a different story. Neighbor lady is cleaning out her garage. I get out of the car, and I’m surveying the trash. Bikes… Boxes… And a snow blower. Step-dad (henceforth known as Pappi) pulls up, and I’m all “Hey, check out that snow blower”, and he’s all “No shit, that looks new!”
The sign on it says the magic word “FREE”.
It’s just before 8am, I have on boots, flannel pajama bottoms, a fleece jacket and a runny nose. It’s 10 degrees and my bed is calling my name. Pappi decides that we are going to take the snow blower so that one of my step brothers can use it. I decide one of the bikes might work for Maddie, so I ride it up the drive way. No biggie. I’m only in my pajamas. Which, by the way are a lovely print comprised of bathtubs, toothbrushes and rubber duckies. I looked hot as hell. It was a true fashion miracle.
Freezing, I make my way down the drive to the self-propelled snow blower which won’t start because it’s too cold and it’s been out all night. It also has a flat tire. I advocate walking away from it, but that was just too easy! “Come on, you big baby! It’s just a snow blower!”
That doesn’t want to move. Unless it gets tilted at insane angle and both myself and Pappi get behind it with all of our weight. Really? Oh yeah, really. We push it forward about 10 feet and Pappo determines its break time. My runny nose is now a faucet, and he wants a break? So I sigh and stand there. Two minutes later, the darn thing is moving forward, but even more slowly than before. My fingers are frozen, and I have frozen snot. Pappi looks at me and starts to laugh. “Come on Princess. My side is easier, switch spots.” He was right. It was easier. So much so that my left leg gets out from under me, my face comes dangerously close to the gear shifter and my foot gets tangled with the old man’s causing him to pitch face first into the control panel of the thing.
He’s cursing at me for tripping him. I’m laughing hysterically and my watery eyes are now producing frozen tears to match my snot.
Things like this would have never happened in North Carolina. People are smart there. They don’t own snow blowers and 10 degree temperatures create a statewide state of emergency that closes schools and causes all of the stores to sell out of milk, bread and batteries.
Though I will say the frost on my car looked mighty cool…
Stay warm lovelies. We still have a few months to go before we can break out the sandals.