Snow Plowing just got FUN.
So, after 7 years of plowing (and hating it 95.79% of the time) I discover the missing link: blueberry beer! Thank you Chip's Store for always having a handy dandy, cold supply.
All those years I bitched about the DickHead who plowed at my former home... WHILE he was drinking beer. Turns out he was right all along.
2 blueberry beers into it and it took me 3 attempts to back a wide farm tractor into a narrow garage (usually I get it right the first time). But hey, I did not swear once while plowing even while trying to:
- hold my beer,
- steer, and
- work the plow hydraulic lever.
Well, that is until I finished plowing, moved my car out of the tractor's side of the garage (with the 2x4 propped overhead door), and got back on my tractor to put it away... yup, the damned snow plow goes by and plugs the end of my driveway again.
Hey, one F bomb is a whole lot less than normal.
Beer is now part of the process...
BTW Mom: please tell Dad I need a bottle holder installed on my tractor.
Don't worry Mom... you did not fail as a parent.
This day has been a friggin' snowy fiasco.
- Garage door broken.
- Can't get tractor out to plow.
- Have to fight with said door for an hour and then prop it open with a 2 x 4.
- Tractor runs out of gas because this piss poor X Girl Scout isn't prepared with gas. AND... she knew a winter storm was coming.
- Finally I am coming home with the gas to finish plowing.
Funny enough, I have picked up a six pack of blueberry beer too.
On we go...
So the story gets better. Eli, my 15 year old, is giving me shit because I have beer:
"what did you buy beer for mom?"
I say: "if I have to plow the driveway on a No. Co., redneck, old farm tractor I'm going to do it like a proper, happy, No. Co. redneck."
So then I spill my beer on top of the clothes washer. Eli quickly grabs a towel to wipe it up. I flip out and yell at him to stop. Which, I have to give him credit: quick thinking & action but...
I run to the kitchen, pull apart a tincture bottle, and use the dropper, like a straw, to suck the beer up off the top of the washer. To which Eli says, "nothing says crazy, drunk bitch like this! "
How have I NOT ruined my awesome kids?
Did I mention my 15 year old never made it to school, which had been delayed 2 hours, but the above snow, garage door, plowing, gas, and beer fiasco trumped school for the day. Shhh, don't tell his Dad...