In yesterday's post, I made mention of our non-functioning snow blower.* It's not entirely dead; it will - grudgingly - start up, upon which it sputters and shakes before shuddering into silence. Don thought it was bad gas, though now he's pretty sure it needs a tune up. In spite of the knowledge that the beastie is NOT working properly, my darling dear perseveres. This morning, he waded through thigh-deep snow to the shed. And yes, he did get the thing started, and yes, he did clear a bit of pathway, but the machine has died again at the top of the driveway.
It's as if he's just taking the snow blower out for a walk, which is very sweet but highly ineffective.