‘Please, Betsy … just work this one time’
As we got dumped on with snow earlier this week, I primarily dtayed indoors and enjoyed the beauty of it all.
But soon panic overcame me as I looked outside to see massive amounts of snow- more than I recall seeing in quite some time.
I always get a little nervous when my snow-blower sits idle in the garage for an extended period of time. It has happened in the past where the Toro blower hasn’t been used for such a long time, and it fails to fire up when I most need it. I was afraid the same thing would happen again this week.
Luckily, I’ve only needed the snow blower maybe once or twice over the past couple winters. But that doesn’t help matters when you finally do need to call upon it to rescue you from Mother Nature’s wrath.
As more than 12 inches of snow blanketed the region Monday, I got a little nervous wondering if my magic snow-remover would kick into action without sending me to the drug store in search of pain relievers for headaches of frustration.
The snow kept coming and coming. The end of my driveway kept piling up to the point of where I thought I was beyond help. All I could think was, my snow-blower better work, especially after I hadn’t used it for at least a year.
I knew I was in for big trouble if the blower didn’t work.
On Tuesday morning, it was truth or consequences for me with my snow-blower. If it didn’t work, I’d be faced with severe consequences of shoveling mountains of snow that probably would put me flat on my back with pains I never knew could exist. I actually don’t mind shoveling snow, but not when it’s 10 plus inches of heavy, wet stuff.
I stepped into the garage and gingerly walked up to my snow-blower. I gave it a few extra strokes, thinking it wouldn’t mind some tender loving care. Well, all right, I gave it a big wet smooch like you’ve never seen before.
“Please, Betsy the snow-blower, please work just this one time,” I kept repeating in my head. “I can’t have you let me down this time.”
And it worked.
With one giant pull of the starting rope, the blower blasted into action like I had never seen before. No doubt I had a little look of astonishment in my eyes as I left the engine warm up a minute or two.
“This really can’t be,” I exclaimed out loud to nobody. “This is a Minnesota miracle.”
Wait a minute.
I know the “Minnesota Miracle” tagline had been coined for the Vikings a couple weeks ago after a last-second touchdown propelled them into the NFC Championship. But after Sunday’s lousy performance in Philadelphia, I think the Minnesota Miracle now belongs to my snow-blower and me.
Relief set in for me. I was doing the happy dance as I blasted through the two-foot snowdrifts at the end of my driveway. It’s amazing how one’s mood can change for the delight of others when things actually go right and work properly.
Bring on more snow. I’m ready to conquer Old Man Winter in all its winter glory, knowing I have a snow-blower that’s actually dependable and works. It makes winter seem not so bad after all.
Thinking about it, I’ve been cooped up indoors too much. I’m in desperate need of some fresh air to clear my mind of such nasty thoughts.
At the very least, I’ll be in hot pursuit of knocking down the grips of winter with my trusty snow-blower.