So, it snowed about twelve inches the other day. About noon, D3 and I hit the drive with shoves. My van was out for repair, leaving a garage stall open. Our plan was to clear the drive enough to get D1’s vehicle into the garage. One fewer vehicle makes clearing the drive much easier.
We shoveled the snow away from the garage doors and called Papa to see how to run the snow blower. It doesn’t get used much around here, but it seemed like a good day to do so. In spite of two phone calls, we never could keep the darn thing running, it cranked, started, died. More than a few times.
D1 arrived, so all three of us worked on the drive. Finally, we were to the point of a huge drift in the middle and we were wet, cold and tired. So, I pointed out that if we kept pumping the injector button, the blower kept running. We ended up taking turns running the blower, with the spare person pushing the button the keep it going. Not fun, but effective.
It was pretty much like 3 rednecks run the snow blower.
When Papa arrived home, he pointed out which setting was wrong, and the darn thing roared to life and kept running. He finished the blowing, thank goodness.
Saturday morning, the house looked like this:
It is pretty unremarkable, except that we had NO snow the morning before.