Spring Break and Snowblowers

It's Spring Break here.  Given that we were pummeled with nine inches of snow overnight, the term "spring" is a misnomer.  Come to think of it, since my husband is away for the week and I'm flying solo with the girls, the term "break" isn't entirely accurate, either.

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.