The latest snow report
It took days, but we finally managed to break through to the street. The physical costs were immense, but we had to get out. We had less than two six packs of Tab left, and the chardonnay was running dangerously low – six bottles. I’ve had a variety of physical problems over the years, and all of them have now been reinforced. My back is now little more than a twisted source of throbbing pain. My chiropractor is already shopping for tropical islands to buy with what he’ll make off of me in the coming year. My left arm, (tennis elbow) is in distress while my right arm (golfer’s elbow*) is totally worthless and hangs listlessly swinging at my side. I’ve pretty much given up on Aleve and aspirin, etc. There’s too much pain – and they don’t seem to affect it in the least.
The snow that’s caused all of this mayhem is still with us of course - hell, it’ll be here in June there’s so much of the god damned stuff. Those areas that were plowed/dug to the pavement are now free and passable, but everything else has undergone numerous days of partial melt and refreezing, resulting in adamantine blocks that are almost impenetrable, (as I wrote in my last missive regarding this phenomena). I write “almost” because there is one tool at my disposal that will destroy ANY ice. With it, I am like a Conan of the Tundra, able to break down or through even the sturdiest blocks. It’s a huge pole-like staff, made from some sort of super-iron composite, (I strongly suspect it was forged in the pits of Mordor). It’s a rusty black color, about 66” long and an inch in diameter with a business end that looks like a rather large, crude flathead screw driver, about two inches across. Besides its absolute solidness, its main attribute is the weight – it must be about 35 pounds. This attribute is both a blessing and a curse, you can smash it through anything, but it’s a royal pain to use more than a few minutes, especially with a body as strained as mine now is. The thing is an indestructible monster, I swear I can see Sauron’s initials on the butt end of it, but Linda insists that’s just some scarring from the minute amount of rust that coats it. I don’t even really know what it was for originally, it’s not really a post hole digger, and not quite sharp enough for effective garden work, (not that I can see any gardener sweeping one of these things around the peonies). There’s even a debate as to where it came from, with Linda insisting that we bought it at a flea market in Alexandria while I seem to remember being the only one in our region who was capable of pulling it out of a huge block of ice, and thereafter being proclaimed “King Glacier Killer”, and “Yeti Bane”. Whatever, it gets the job done, but at the cost of my muscles and bones.
The other physical change I’ve undergone may also have a psychological component to it. Whenever there is a mention of the possibility of more snowfall in our area, one of my eyes and the corner of my mouth start twitching uncontrollably. I was out shopping briefly today and a few stray flakes started to fall. The results on my face were immediate, profound, and if I might say so – damned intimidating. Children now run from me, (an effect I’ve been trying to hone for years, and now it’s occurred!).
My physical predicament and gait have earned me the moniker of Quasimodo. I’ve decided to run with that, (well, stumble along, really) and have taken to speaking like Charles Laughton with a mouth full of marbles; and have applied to Notre Dame Cathedral for the position of chief bell ringer. And my prospects look good! Management already acknowledges that I have all of the correct physical attributes, but there is a sticking point in negotiations, as I am a traditionalist and demand the right to pour vats of hot melted lead on anyone I should choose. They are balking at this, a sure sign of the spiritual slough that modern France has fallen prey to. Nevertheless, I feel on the verge of a capitulation on their part towards this, my eye is twitching….
(*It is one of the many ironies in my life to suffer from an ailment named after a game I have so little regard for)
The snow that’s caused all of this mayhem is still with us of course - hell, it’ll be here in June there’s so much of the god damned stuff. Those areas that were plowed/dug to the pavement are now free and passable, but everything else has undergone numerous days of partial melt and refreezing, resulting in adamantine blocks that are almost impenetrable, (as I wrote in my last missive regarding this phenomena). I write “almost” because there is one tool at my disposal that will destroy ANY ice. With it, I am like a Conan of the Tundra, able to break down or through even the sturdiest blocks. It’s a huge pole-like staff, made from some sort of super-iron composite, (I strongly suspect it was forged in the pits of Mordor). It’s a rusty black color, about 66” long and an inch in diameter with a business end that looks like a rather large, crude flathead screw driver, about two inches across. Besides its absolute solidness, its main attribute is the weight – it must be about 35 pounds. This attribute is both a blessing and a curse, you can smash it through anything, but it’s a royal pain to use more than a few minutes, especially with a body as strained as mine now is. The thing is an indestructible monster, I swear I can see Sauron’s initials on the butt end of it, but Linda insists that’s just some scarring from the minute amount of rust that coats it. I don’t even really know what it was for originally, it’s not really a post hole digger, and not quite sharp enough for effective garden work, (not that I can see any gardener sweeping one of these things around the peonies). There’s even a debate as to where it came from, with Linda insisting that we bought it at a flea market in Alexandria while I seem to remember being the only one in our region who was capable of pulling it out of a huge block of ice, and thereafter being proclaimed “King Glacier Killer”, and “Yeti Bane”. Whatever, it gets the job done, but at the cost of my muscles and bones.
The other physical change I’ve undergone may also have a psychological component to it. Whenever there is a mention of the possibility of more snowfall in our area, one of my eyes and the corner of my mouth start twitching uncontrollably. I was out shopping briefly today and a few stray flakes started to fall. The results on my face were immediate, profound, and if I might say so – damned intimidating. Children now run from me, (an effect I’ve been trying to hone for years, and now it’s occurred!).
My physical predicament and gait have earned me the moniker of Quasimodo. I’ve decided to run with that, (well, stumble along, really) and have taken to speaking like Charles Laughton with a mouth full of marbles; and have applied to Notre Dame Cathedral for the position of chief bell ringer. And my prospects look good! Management already acknowledges that I have all of the correct physical attributes, but there is a sticking point in negotiations, as I am a traditionalist and demand the right to pour vats of hot melted lead on anyone I should choose. They are balking at this, a sure sign of the spiritual slough that modern France has fallen prey to. Nevertheless, I feel on the verge of a capitulation on their part towards this, my eye is twitching….
(*It is one of the many ironies in my life to suffer from an ailment named after a game I have so little regard for)
posted by mendip at
12:55 PM
2 Comments:
That's called a Digging Bar. Very handy item. Little can stand in the way of he (or She) who wields it. Pry out rocks and roots of stubborn shrubs in no time. Useful for loosening up the sides and bottoms of post holes or the like so you can switch to post-hole "diggers" just to scoop the now loosened stuff up. Far more effective than driving the holes in using the diggers to begin with.
By
C Serlin for State Rep, at 1:13 PM
Please don't move to France! Although you may get better health care there - and, of course, great wine. Hmmm, perhaps we should all move to France....
By
carol, at 3:01 PM
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