A little late, not. (Day 26)

I was have trouble dragging my butt out of bed. I actually did it before noon, if only by 5 minutes. I then bundle up and head out the door to see what trouble I can get into. Snow, or should I say, more snow, greats me, and lots of it. We got a good 3” to 4”, or more (do I look like a tape measure to you?). Since the broom is closer, and it prevents the production of ice tracks, I grab it and get to work making a path to the garage (and to the snow blower). I get that done and spot one of my neighbor ladies, Mrs. A henceforth. She is shoveling her walk, from the door she has made a path to the drive, to that point. I finish my sweeping and head over to see what she is up to, and what the menfolk are about. It appears she is going to do a bit of shoveling herself, she ends up doing her drive and sidewalk, complete! And, the other neighbors drive is also already done, hrmph. And, it seems the men have gone to a basketball game and will not be back until early afternoon. No problem, really, I can get the driveway clear and I just woke up anyway. I talk a little while longer, then head back to my garage and fire up the machine. I finish my drive, and see that Mrs. A has completed her side of the walk as well as her driveway, so I turn the machine north. While I am at it, I do a strangers drive next door and to the north, and the sidewalks down to where they are clear.

No great excitement, but… Wow are we getting snow this year. Which is super, now I can rent skis and get out! I had so worried about that, and really, this coming week was the first opportunity, between money, snow, and time for me to get out. I spoke with the rental shop I will use, at least the first one I will use, while I was picking up my pistol yesterday. So, really, I am all set. Monday I will probably rent for the week. I figure $30 for M-F beats $15 for 24 hours by a long shot. I might even get the nag or a neighbor to go with me if I can find some decent ski areas and if I have a little confidence in my skills.

Yuck, my sweat is so potent. It has an acidic bold scent, perhaps with a touch of gunpowder and gun oil odor, oddly, that I could probably scrape and sell to middle-aged women for sex appeal (they are weird that way, or at least they used to be). Being musky is not a great joy. At least it attracts the right kind of women, if I would get off my butt and try to figure out where the big cats of my preferred variety slink. As for me, I have never understood stink bait. Well, mostly.