Received the above from a friend in Sioux Falls this morning which made me laugh out loud.
Yes, we are counting our blessings at missing the record snow and cold back home while our biggest concern here is whether or not we need to take a jacket to the golf course.
Well, that’s not entirely true.
The same friend that sent the cartoon is keeping an eye on our house and says there’s a huge snow drift in the driveway.
I’d made arrangements with my neighbors who have snowblowers to keep our sidewalks clear and the city’s snow watchdogs at bay..but our driveway is huge and difficult to plow. It would be really pushing the limits of good-neighborliness to ask them to tackle that difficult task in our absence.
Before leaving for the desert, we told the guy across the street that he could use our driveway for his pickup while we were gone. Of course that would mean keeping it plowed out. But I think he realized what a pain that’s going to be and has decided to take his chances leaving it parked on the street.
This afternoon, I have to find a place to fix the big old red Lincoln..which apparently didn’t like the last tank of gas I bought because it began missing, spitting and sputtering the day after we arrived. I’ve since filled her with high octane, put in some STP octane boost and fuel injector cleaner fluid but nothing has helped.
So now, even though I spent nearly a thousand dollars at the garage before we left to make sure she was in good shape for the trip…she barely runs. I’m hoping it’s something as simple as a fuel filter, faulty injector or the oxygen sensor and not something deep in the old girl’s bowels that will force a major decision.
It has me rethinking the idea of flying out here next time and renting a car.
But then that might mean I’d have to essentially pose naked in one of those new ultra revealing airport security machines which give TSA screeners the power of Superman to see the color of Lois Lane’s panties.
Yes, I know, in our world it’s better to inconvenience and humiliate “everyone” rather than make a few people mad by profiling.
Thank you terrorists, with your shoe bombs and exploding underpants, for making air travel as big a pain in the butt as a 30 degree below zero day on the Great Plains.
By the way, the coldest I’ve ever been was in Williston, North Dakota in 1967 when the temperature plunged to minus 46.
Oh, there was that other time when I gave the wrong answer to Linda when she asked, “do these pants make me look fat?”
It remember it was REAL cold that night too.