It’s grouchy time at the ranch. I’ve had exactly one more day of fun than I can tolerate this winter and with the fun-meter all the way to the right and clicking on the post,I’m ready to make the move to Zimbabwe based on weather alone.
Why so crabby? It’s nine below zero, we’re expecting 50 mile an hour winds by dark tonight, and there’s a few tons of snow on my garage roof. The kind of snow that breaks roofs down and crushes cars.
So this morning I will take my roof rake (yeah, we have tools for raking snow off the roof here in Uff-Da land) and drag a few hundred pounds of snow down onto my lawn. And me. You invariably get a lot of it down your collar.
Once that fun evolution is done you get to fire up the snow blower and move all that snow somewhere else. Because if you don’t then the dog has nowhere to take a tinkle, the garage door is blocked, and your car is only accessible from the alley. Rinse and repeat on the other side of the garage. That side can only be approached by wading through chest high snow that you’ve deposited from clearing the alley so you can get your car in the garage. All of this done in a brisk wind below zero.
Today, for the first time in months, I’m rather sorry I won’t be editing something I wrote. I hate editing. But it sure beats dragging the snow off the roof.
Remind me to whine some more later. Right now I’ve got to put on my play clothes and go outside.
Sweet Meteor of Death (SMOD) come and claim us. But if you’re coming, do it before I get my boots on and head out the door.