We have twelve inches of snow already. I measured, and my weather app says more is on the way. On the way, hell it’s snowing right now.
I thought it was as simple as push-the-button, pull-the-lever or pull-the-lever, push-the-button. But there I stood first pushing and pulling, then pulling and pushing, believing that repeating the same thing over and expecting different results wasn’t futile, but right, or if not that cathartic.
It was only a winter ago that I’d purchased the electric snowblower, counting on the simplicity of it to last more than one year. The gas-powered one had frustrated both me with its fickleness and the environment with its belching of exhaust like a little dragon with indigestion.
But this is about the shiny new electric snowblower with its button and its lever. I was near giving up and returning yet again to the shovel, telling myself that the exercise would do me good and that ultimately it was better for the environment. I went into the house to check the manual for something I may have forgotten when I heard it start and then stop, my son had continued to push and pull some combination which must have been the right one. But when I came back out, it had ceased to work.
I asked him what he’d done differently, but he couldn’t remember. Knowing there was at least some way to start it, we checked and double-checked the plug at both ends and found nothing awry. Then the accident happened again. The truth was discovered: hold the button down, pull the lever, and once it starts, release the button.
A button, a lever, and now the snow is deeper still..