On Saturday, since we had predictions of snowmageddon about to hit us, I decided it might be a good idea to see of I could start the snow blower. I have one, tucked into the back of the garage, hiding behind other things that don’t get a lot of use. We really haven’t needed it much. Which is fine by me.
I don’t really have a huge driveway, and I don’t mind shoveling all that much. Yes, there are things I would rather be doing than shoveling snow, but it’s not that bad. And the snow blower? It’s almost as much work moving that thing around as it is shoveling. And if we don’t get a lot of snow, I am happier just leaving it in the garage.
It has been that way since the snow blower tried to kill me. I don’t think it meant to. I guess really it was many things in my past life that really did the job, but the snow blower was part of it.
I had finished clearing my own driveway and was going to help a neighbour. I had shut the snow blower off as I looked over what needed to be done. Then, I returned to the snowblower. Since I was a ways from the nearest outlet, I decided not to bother with the electric start. Instead, I just pulled the cord. For some reason, pulling that cord triggered something. I had a heart attack. Not from shoveling. From pulling the cord on the snow blower.
So I decided the snow blower had it out for me and I really did not want a repeat of that particular instance. And we really haven’t had any huge snow storms since then. Which was… I had to sit and do some math for this… five years ago. Or darn close to it. Five years I had tried to ignore the snow blower. I really hadn’t paid much attention since that day. And I guess it felt neglected. because there was no way that thing was starting up this past weekend.
I made sure I had fresh gas. I tried pretty much everything I could think of. But I’m not much of a mechanic. I know enough to get myself in trouble, so I try to resist the urge to even make an attempt. So the snow blower remains in the corner of the garage.
This morning, it was back to the shovel. Which wasn’t such a bad thing. It was a nice morning. Maybe a bit crisp, but nice. And I like the fact that shoveling is one of those activities where you can see you are making progress. As long as I’m not in a hurry, I kind of enjoy it. Seeing the snow disappear in one place and piles grow in another. Not that it wouldn’t be satisfying to see the same accomplished by a machine, but I really don’t mind that much.
Do I bother getting it fixed? Or do I just revert to the trusty shovel?
It’s a tough choice. But I know the shovel is always going to work.
