Enough is enough, I decided: continuously I seem lecture people on accepting change, learning and growing and it was time to "put my money where my mouth was" and get to work. Tired of constant slushy snowbanks intruding our driveway I knew it was time I learned how to use the snowblower. A gift last summer from my father-in-law to my husband I yanked the sucker out of the garage (sending a pile of odds and ends scattering, breaking a porcelain toilet back in about 5 pieces - I don't even recall where it could have come from?) and read the instructions. I can operate the riding lawnmower (albeit dangerously by some standards: the neighbours, for some reason, move their van from the block to the driveway each and every time I get the riding lawnmower out). So I knew I had to be able to operate the snowblower.
Quickly I discovered why my husband is "addicted" to this "sport" (although he still often doesn't take the time to get our driveway cleaner than "GUN IT AND GET IT IN!"). A sense of accomplishment followed each dizzying circle around the lane. How could I do it more efficiently? Like a Zamboni driver I attempted to perfect the switchbacks and zones where blowing snow landed. Look how clean it is, I admired as the machine almost slipped from my grasp...but not clean enough. I need to see pavement...(though I never did today).
Yes, I quickly began understanding the addiction. Will the driveway be much cleaner in days to come? Well, I highly doubt that fact but now I have no excuse....
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