AAR, Part Two: "How To Catch Pneumonia Without Really - errrrr - What I Did On My Winter Vacatio - ummmm - Aaaaah, Forget It"

Now, as some of you (about twenty, unless ElTee is ditzier than she pretends to be) will remember, I mentioned in Part One that I had once again demonstrated the futility of attempting to gain instant acclimation to sub-zero (Centigrade, Aaron) temperatures by wandering around in a blizzard immediately (okay, fourteen hours – picky, picky, picky) after departing the lush greenery of Mesopotamia. Not that I don’t *enjoy* dressing up like Roald Amundsen and daring the elements, y’unnerstand, but doing it at 0530 after consuming only a single pot of coffee is just asking for it.

Not that I had much choice in the matter. I had to clear up the Gaia-created abatis




blocking the walkway before I could get to the job I had my heart set on doing – clearing the driveway of two feet of *wet* snow before it solidified into a glacier.

The trees of the Jungle have lost limbs in the two-to-three inch diameter range to storms and snowfalls before, but it’s been years since they’ve shed five-inchers. A *lot* of five-inchers.

In addition, naturally, to the usual crop of two-to-three inchers.

This is about two hours’ worth of wood-dragging through the drifts.




The shed is 10 feet tall by 12 feet wide, and the walkway to it is 15 feet long. And that’s one of *four* piles of coniferous, carbon-sucking cordwood.

The two bright, shining silver linings that kept me going were

1. I got a reprieve (temporarily) from KtLW’s Honeydew List from Hades (HLfH) and

2. I got to play with some toys I haven’t played with since 2006!




And sorry, but John’s “I bayoneted myself” remains sacrosanct.

I didn’t massacre myself with the chainsaw.

I didn’t do a job on myself with the hatchet (or the survival tool).

I didn't separate either radius or ulna or any other part of my arm with the radial saw.

I didn’t get hammered.

I didn’t lop any limbs (or digits) attached to my corporeal self.

I came, I sawed, I survived – despite losing a link in the chain a half-hour into the job, and dodging *additional* limbs that decided to snap while I was collecting their previously-fallen buddies.

Took two days to whack the %$#@! things into four-foot lengths and tote them to the front yard so the cleanup crews could haul them away come springtime.

And I got to do it all over again after Stormageddon arrived, five days later...

For those of you – and you *know* who you are – agonizing that I didn’t get to the HLfH, relax. It took me a while to accomplish all 2,375 items, but I got ‘er done. Most of them weren’t exactly photogenic (“#873: Replace basement doorframe the dogs ate while Sue’s cat was loose in the basement”), but I’m sorta pleased with the way this one turned out:

“#2,368: Paint the wood strip between the entranceway and the Family Room to look like a piece of the floor in the Family Room.”




A tad too much blue in it, now that I look at it, but otherwise, not too shabby a-tall…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Spoiler for AAR, Part Three: A couple of my fellow war-profiteering contractor parasites are first-timers – never been outside CONUS before.

Meaning, they’ve never been under fire before.

Heh...