Still, Spring Break sounds a lot better than Lingering Winter Altered Schedule Week, though, so it'll suffice.
At any rate, early this morning I cued a video for the girls, placed Kerrington in her bouncer, bundled myself in layers, and set out to clear the driveway. Fortunately, we own a snowblower. It's relatively new and I've never used it before, but the prospect of learning how to operate new equipment was less daunting than the prospect of shoveling over half a foot of snow off 1000 square feet of pavement before the half-hour episode of Martha Speaks finished and the girls went haywire inside.
I discovered that there's a learning curve to the art of snowblowing, and judging from the two times that I took a faceful of snow from the discharge chute, I'm behind the curve.
Once the driveway was finally cleared, I lowered the throttle and turned the key to the off position, but instead of stopping, the machine merely downgraded into sickly sputtering, as if it were stuck in neutral. I jiggled the key back and forth. I even pulled it out of the ignition, and yet the snowblower still ran. Worthless little key.
How do you stop a snowblower that insists on staying on? Certain that I was running out of time, I contemplated parking it in the center of the driveway and letting it run out of gas. In frustration, I pushed it -- hard -- and finally, the engine stopped.
When I stomped the snow from my boots and came inside, the girls weren't injured or crying, the house wasn't in utter disarray, and the driveway was mostly snow-free, so I chalked it up to a successful morning, all in all.
It's certainly not sand and flip flops, but happy Spring Break. The snow's melting fast, I can tell.