wideeyedfunk

Tag: winter snow

  • November Hoses

    The WideEyedSpouse is lying under the back porch with a heat gun. Miss-Tibbit-the-Useless-Little-Black-Dog is staring in wonderment. Crooked Hank, entering the third winter of his young life, believes it all to be nonsense.

    Tonight it will freeze and freeze hard. The hose stopcock is already frozen open. Probably bad things will happen in the coming arctic blast if it isn’t drained and closed. Boring, expensive things.

    Friends, don’t judge us here in the WideEyedHousehold! We started the snow thrower two days before this morning’s snow labor. I packed the Smooth Ride’s trunk go-bag last evening (winter coat, blanket, fruit leather, water vessel, plastic bag, cat litter, little shovel, and a Wawa Truck Pez pack). The Joan of Arctic Sorels are out and were  deployed this morning. The bomber hats undrawered last week.

    A person can only do so much to prepare before the wretched realization arrives – all that work is simply to endure winter. W I N T E R. I thought about tropical winters as I forcibly shoved the snow thrower through a densely packed mass of slush (bottom three inches) and snow (top several inches) this morning. Sure, the tropical summers are reaaaally hot what with climate change and all. But that snow thrower. It is a two stroke monster that WAAAAH BAP BAP BAPs in an unholy melody of miserableness and exhaust stink.

    I can hear movement downstairs. Perhaps the ClosedShutStopcock has been achieved. Yay.

    Crooked Hank has an opinion
    Crooked Hank. The Doubter.

  • Fortress of Wintertude.

    Nothing is quieter than a university office during winter break. I can hear my own heart beat between clacks on the keyboard.

    Not much is grimmer than a 1970s, brick built state school campus during winter break. Here looks like joy is something that happens somewhere else.

    campus

    One wall of my office is 25 feet of glass and I perch in my little office box, gazing out at the blowing snow. It blows in a wee baby cyclone, lifting up from the ill-designed courtyard 50 feet below.  No matter how vicious the winds across campus, how bitter the air, outside of my windows the puffy snowflakes dance and spin in mad joy.

  • Snow shovel is worried.

    Does it have a reason to be ? I’d say so.

    20141210_161412There it is, leaning by the back stoop waiting for the new snow fall. The first big one this season was a bust in Buffalo, but Snow shovel got some snow removal action. Another snow fall is happening tonight and tomorrow. Not a big one – which is actually best for Snow shovel.  If the snow is only a couple of inches the WideEyedSpouse tends to grab the shovel instead of the snow thrower. It’s quieter. Snow shovel appreciates the action – you know it gets bored waiting around for snow.

    But.

    But snow shovel is broken. One whole side is fractured away. Too many freeze thaw cycles in Minnesota and Buffalo. Too many wet, heavy snows. Last year a whole chunk sheared off and fracture lines are visible throughout the entire scoop. Snow shovel has to know it is a matter of time.

    Today is the day.

    I was wandering through Lowe’s looking for a bin big enough to haul a dismembered axis deer carcass and moseyed past a rack of new yellow Snow shovels. Their scoops gleamed. Their blades were keen. I could hear their little bossy voices nattering at each other because they are bored, bored, bored sitting inside. They were still in China (probably) when the big storm hit a couple of weeks ago and the next one can’t come soon enough. At least that’s what I think they said – the overhead Christmas carols were a little loud.

    20141210_161301New Snow shovel is laying in the grass about 40 feet from old Snow Shovel. I didn’t want to put it too close to the old one, just in case. You know. Accidents happen.