Gas Pains
Tom grew up in Milwaukee, bartended in Wauwatosa in the '70s and moved here in 1984.
Commentary, observations and musings about the outdoors, life in general and maybe Tosa politics and personalities will be the order of the day. He savors a lively debate as much as terrific cooking.
El Toro es Muerto
I debated replacement of my trusty red Toro snowblower this summer. I had it over to Speedway for servicing and told the fella there that if repairs were going to run more than $100 to call me first and we'd talk trade-in. The bill ended-up in the mid two digits so the Toro was given another lease on life.
Well not quite - but very close. After twenty five winters of faithful service the Toro is now on life support.
Last night's snowfall just about killed it.
Moving snow around when you live in a neighborhood of Tosa bungalows packed cheek by jowl next to one another is a challenge. You see there is nowhere to go with the snow between the houses. That means you have to move it twice.
First, you start between the houses and you move half of the snow towards the tiny backyard and the other half towards the tiny front yard. Then you pile it into the tiny yards - higher and higher - until you can barely see over the top of your snow piles.
One of my neighbors was wondering out loud what sins he committed that brought the monumental snowfall upon him. Later he was broadcasting Christmas carols loud enough to be heard over the noise of seven snowblowers. Penance I figured.
I don't know about any of the rest of you but I remember as a kid the snow piled at the end of the driveway was at least as tall as I was. After today's snow removal efforts the snow at the end of my driveway is officially as tall as I am. My neighbors and I marveled at the guy at the end of the block who has a pile at the end of his driveway that must be at least eight feet high. It is deserving of a flag at its summit.
Anyway - back to the Toro. Halfway through today's job the drive mechanism to the wheels went kaput. The auger and two stage impeller worked just fine but it was no longer self-propelled. I finished the job by muscling the beast forward and restricting it to smaller slices. It was probably hilarious to see me pushing that contraption up the slope of the driveway with my wife pushing me from behind. We shoveled the tough stuff.
Winter. I love it.
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