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 2×4 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…