We have a new snow plow. It’s red and it begins with a B. Beyond that, I don’t know much about it. Not from a lack of information, I assure you.
I have heard about The Plow for a looooooong time. First, there was the plow proposal with lengthy arguments supporting the expenditure. I was noncommittal, it is never good to authorize purchases in haste. All through the spring and summer there were soliloquies devoted to the proposed advent of The Plow. Eventually, it became numbingly familiar to me, a loop playing in the background like an overplayed top 40 hit.
Last week, I was directed to write a check for The Plow. Late Saturday, The Plow was attached to The Truck. As I dressed on Sunday, there was chatter regarding the fine assembly of The Plow, the superior merits of a plow that begins with B versus the inferior qualities of the overpriced (aren’t they all overpriced?) plow that begins with F. There was a question, rather than the usual declarative statement, and I searched my brain for an adequate response, laughing a little bit to myself.
There is no snow, yet. The Plow had to be removed from The Truck. It was communicated to me that it would take “3 minutes”. I know what that means, lots of swearing that goes on for longer than 3 minutes. I peeked out the window and I went outside to offer to help twice. Finally, success!
We have a new snow plow. It’s in the driveway. At the first snowfall, when it’s time to mount it to The Truck for the first time, there will be lots of swearing.