Speaking of the fresh snow, Wednesday evening my partner John was out. It had snowed heavily all day! I went outside after finishing up my legal work and got our newly tuned 20-year old snowblower out to do its wonderful work. I had completed about 1/3 of the drive and patio when it died - of course at the foot of the hill...
I
finished the drive by hand in an hour and a half... Then, I dragged the
machine back up the hill and into the shed. Exhausted, I went inside the
house, put a log on the fire, took a pain pill, and had a substantial glass
of wine, all in an effort to console myself.
I had to leave next day at 7am for a conference, and so I phoned a friend to ask if he would come in the morning to help John load the trailer so that John could take it into the repair shop in Campbellford, a town about 20K from here.
Overnight it had snowed again heavily and by the time of my anticipated departure, the drive was plugged with the white stuff. So, in my benevolence, I decided to help John with the shovelling before I left. I really had no option if I wanted poor little Mini to get down the drive. But I also decided to try to start the snow blower again, this time using the electric start cord instead of the manual pull ... It started right away, and I, smiling, directed the machine down the drive where it promptly conked out near the bottom again. It would not restart...
John and I dragged it back up the hill. Then John, in
his wisdom, decided it was a problem with the gas line. I made fun of him
and asked him if he had learned that in mechanics class on the moon. It's a
joke with us. Every time he has a suggestion that comes out of the blue on a
subject that he has no expertise in, I ask him if he learned that in
whatever class on the moon. I am sure there is a long since forgotten
rationale for that tease.
Before we put the pathetic snowblower away, he decided to check the gas tank. I insisted that I had already checked it last night and it was almost full. He ignored me. He often does. It happens after 33 years. He opened the gas cap, stood back and announced with his renowned clerical passion: It is bone dry! ...
I proclaimed that it had certainly
looked full. In the dimness of dusk, and with weary and ageing eyes, it had
definitely looked full - no doubt because of the reflection of the little
remaining fuel and the dim light. Alas, it had been empty all this
time!
Now, unfortunately, I have given him a story to tell at parties for the rest of the year. He has even started to learn how to tell it in Spanish in anticipation of Christmas festivities in Cuba!
