Hey, you up there with the snow making machine, will you cut it out already! I've had as much as I can handle. In fact, my handle is all over sweaty hand marks because Mary G got too hot this afternoon and took her mittens off. Snow shovels are not supposed to have sweaty handles. It's getting ridiculous. Dig, dig, dig, morning, noon and night.
This afternoon I got scraped and thumped on the garage apron and had to lift over a foot of snow. That stuff is heavy, eh? This is after the tractor was supposed to have cleared it out. Yesterday it was decks and porches. And more decks. And more porches. Then I had to make a trail from the house to the barn (and that's a loooong way, baby!) so that JG could get the tractor started.
You want to see what I have to put up with? There I am, just after she finally put me down, this afternoon. I tell you, this is no job for wimps. See those big piles of white stuff. I put 'em there, by cracky.
But 54 centimetres (foot and a half, about) is too dern much. I can't take it any more! I'm leaving for Florida, or maybe Arizona. Yeah, Arizona would be good. Catch you later... much later. There's more white stuff due tomorrow night.
Note from MG -- some of those piles were made with a front end loader. This guy is not the most truthful mouth on the block.