Until the snow blower won’t start. Then, the expanse of driveway and parking pad that once seemed so small becomes an island nation. The road it attaches to a distant river of black.
Why? Why does the old and semi-rusty snow blower start for the Boyfriend. It is almost as though they have a secret relationship. One that I am not, nor ever will, be allowed to share. When the Boyfriend goes out to start the rusty heap, it turns right over. Granted it turns over with a chug and a belch, but, hey, she’s old. And she still runs. She sat next to the garage all summer long without running her motor. Then, early this fall, the Boyfriend went out, took a bit of spray paint and gave her a shiny, new looking auger compartment and she acts as though he presented her with the Hope Diamond! He gave her pull starter a small tug and she purred like a contented kitten. She chugged a bit, emitted a bit of smoke from her exhaust and moved on into the garage for her winter duties.
Then, this morning we had snow. Heavy, wet snow. The kind that gives senior citizens heart attacks. I went out, gloves donned, opened garage door, checked the gas level in the old girl, moved her into plowing position and gave her a prime. I grabbed her pull starter and gave it an energetic pull and…nothing. Pulled again. Nothing. Pulled again and again and again. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Okay. There is an electric starter as well.
I grab the cord, drag it over, plug it in to her discretely hidden starter outlet. Giving another prime, I push the starter button. Rumble of the starter mechanism occurs. She gives a shimmy. She give a shake. She doesn’t start. Again. Shimmy, shake. Again. Shimmy, shake.
I spy the snow shovel. It looks like a small spoon compared to the snow blower. But, if the thing won’t start, what choice is there? We can now call the driveway cleared. Done the old fashioned way. With blood, sweat, slipped L5 disc, tight shoulders and wet hands.
Yes. The snow is all pretty and white. We are supposed to get more tonight and tomorrow. Hope the shovel doesn’t give me any problems.