My kingdom for a snowblower
I am blogging from the floor of my bedroom. I don't mean I'm sitting on my floor typing away I mean I'm in the least painful position of what seems to be an infinite amount of painful positions.
If you read my post on thursday you know I was preparing for the foot of snow coming to my driveway. I checked out my hand me down snowblower that I got five years ago and saw I needed gas and oil. I went to Ace Hardware to get a gas can and of course they're sold out since everyone else is doing the same thing. I head off to Home Depot and find the last gas can and grab it. I also pick up an 8 ounce can of oil to mix with the gas. One gallon for every eight ounces it says for lawn mowers and snowblowers. I get gas at the station and go home. I proceed to pour the eight ounces into the gas can and then pour the mixture into the snowblower. As I screw the gas cap back on the blower I realized I screwed myself. On the side of the blower it says to mix four ounces of oil to every gallon of gas. Fabulous.
I try to start the snowblower. Nothing. I try again and again and again. Nothing, nothing, nothing. A few more violent yanks on the blower and I'm ready for rotator cuff surgery. I give up. I take out a shovel and start to remove heavy wet snow that is covers the long driveway to a uniform depth of twelve inches. After a bit of shoveling and closing in on a heart attack I try the blower again. Holy moly it starts! It is billowing out oily black smoke since it is drowning in oil but it works. I'm able to get two passes out of it before it stops working again. More yanks and more nothing. I'm on my own.
Somewhere during the shoveling to clear the driveway something in my back goes on strike. By the time I'm finished I smell like gas and oil and my weak back feels like it's been hurt for about a week back. By the time I go to bed I can't really walk and the next morning it's worse. It's 6 a.m. and I'm on the floor next to my bed. Cranky's Wife is calling the doctor and within an hour I'm holding a bottle of Vicodin and muscle relaxants.
It's now 6 p.m. and I feel paralyzed. Let me re-phrase that. It's 6 p.m. and I am paralyzed. Temporarily I hope. I won't go into all the gory details of life on the floor but it's not pretty. But for my devoted fans I had to blog. Even if it's using one finger on a wireless laptop. I missed posting Friday and for me to miss a post you know I have to be in jail, in the hospital or in a jail hospital. Add paralyzed on the floor after shoveling more snow than my back could carry to the list. Pray for me and my back. And for all those people who get addicted to Vicodin - I don't get it. I'm downing them like Chicklets and I can still feel the pain. Go figure. I can't even get addicted right.
If you read my post on thursday you know I was preparing for the foot of snow coming to my driveway. I checked out my hand me down snowblower that I got five years ago and saw I needed gas and oil. I went to Ace Hardware to get a gas can and of course they're sold out since everyone else is doing the same thing. I head off to Home Depot and find the last gas can and grab it. I also pick up an 8 ounce can of oil to mix with the gas. One gallon for every eight ounces it says for lawn mowers and snowblowers. I get gas at the station and go home. I proceed to pour the eight ounces into the gas can and then pour the mixture into the snowblower. As I screw the gas cap back on the blower I realized I screwed myself. On the side of the blower it says to mix four ounces of oil to every gallon of gas. Fabulous.
I try to start the snowblower. Nothing. I try again and again and again. Nothing, nothing, nothing. A few more violent yanks on the blower and I'm ready for rotator cuff surgery. I give up. I take out a shovel and start to remove heavy wet snow that is covers the long driveway to a uniform depth of twelve inches. After a bit of shoveling and closing in on a heart attack I try the blower again. Holy moly it starts! It is billowing out oily black smoke since it is drowning in oil but it works. I'm able to get two passes out of it before it stops working again. More yanks and more nothing. I'm on my own.
Somewhere during the shoveling to clear the driveway something in my back goes on strike. By the time I'm finished I smell like gas and oil and my weak back feels like it's been hurt for about a week back. By the time I go to bed I can't really walk and the next morning it's worse. It's 6 a.m. and I'm on the floor next to my bed. Cranky's Wife is calling the doctor and within an hour I'm holding a bottle of Vicodin and muscle relaxants.
It's now 6 p.m. and I feel paralyzed. Let me re-phrase that. It's 6 p.m. and I am paralyzed. Temporarily I hope. I won't go into all the gory details of life on the floor but it's not pretty. But for my devoted fans I had to blog. Even if it's using one finger on a wireless laptop. I missed posting Friday and for me to miss a post you know I have to be in jail, in the hospital or in a jail hospital. Add paralyzed on the floor after shoveling more snow than my back could carry to the list. Pray for me and my back. And for all those people who get addicted to Vicodin - I don't get it. I'm downing them like Chicklets and I can still feel the pain. Go figure. I can't even get addicted right.
posted by Crankyboy at 4:24 PM
3 Comments:
I can relate. We had six inches of wet snow last winter, and the woman across the street was shoveling away. Despite my back screaming at me to stop, I continued, so as not to lose face in from of my neighbor, who seemed to be shoveling away with ease (and she's about the same age as I am). When I finished, I barely made it to my couch, where I screeched in horrific back pain. Ouch. Next time, ask for Vicodin ES. It doesn't necessarily dull the pain, but it makes you care less about it. :)
That should learn ya. Here in Ohio, when it snows like that we: 1) take a Vicotin 2) take a few shots of whiskey 3) Drink the six pack of beer.
Who cares if its snowing by then.
You know, I moved the hammock to the other side of the pool today, where I get a little more sun. It got all the way down to 73 and I was freezing.
I even had to put on a T shirt. Talk about suffering!
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