The long and winding road (driven very fast)

The spousal unit is on the hunt for a mid-size van that we can equip with either a side door power lift or a ramp for his power chair. A van, any van, is NOT my idea of how to even go get the mail out of the box at the end of my lane. I do not like vans. 

I do not like vans. Not for any reason. Yes, it could possibly be to his benefit but trust me when I say it won't be anything other than a waste of money. It'll be a new auto loan for him and frankly, he's at the point where he almost never drives. We go everywhere in the Charger and he does NOT get to drive my car. So he's looking at buying a vehicle that will sit in the driveway, in the way of all other vehicles, tractors, and mowers, and rarely be used. It's not something I'll be driving, that's for sure. Does this make financial sense? No. But it's NOT my money. If he thinks I'm going to help finance this misadventure, he's very much mistaken. There's a very good reason my money and his money never meet. But I digress...

I do not like vans. Period. 

I like Challengers, Chargers, Camaros, vintage and classic Mustangs, MOPAR, and Chevy trucks. It's a short list and there is not a van on it. 

This past Friday, instead of doing anything productive, Himself trolled the Internet (or should I start calling it the interwebs because change for the sake of change is hip). He saw a Dodge van at a dealership just north of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. That is over an hour's drive away. It did not please me to go but we hopped in the Charger on Saturday morning and headed out. Yes, I made him fill my gas tank first. 

We got as far as Thurmont, Maryland, before his phone rang. They'd sold the van the night before. I'm very grateful they called before we headed up Route 15 and the longest stretch of the trip. I would have been pissed to get all the way up there and then find out the van had been sold. My inner bitch was already on alert, poised for a good opportunity to launch. Thankfully, it became unnecessary. 

The drive to Thurmont is scenic, even with the leaves off the trees. Route 77, which meanders through Cunningham Falls State Park and Catoctin State Park, is a dream to drive when you have a car that corners on a rail, which my Charger does. 

Being in time for it, we cruised into McDonald's and got breakfast before heading back home. It was a truly lovely morning full of sunshine and blue sky. I was burning his gasoline, and so I took a little drive through Catoctin State Park and ended up driving past Camp David. 

I am now recorded on some military satellite, whizzing down the winding road like it's my personal NASCAR road course. I'm sure a bunch of "hidden" cameras were clicking away, too. Should I be worried? Undoubtedly. Big Brother knows all. 

Then again, those guys stuck with military vehicles are likely jealous they can't take three-hundred horses deep into a corner and power out the other side without body roll or braking. 

And as for Himself? Do THAT in a fucking van.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Getting ready for snow at Holly Tree Manor

 

According to the Farmer's Almanac, a publication my grandfather set a lot of store in, we're going to get walloped by a big snow in February. This isn't as dire a prediction as one may think. It was the second week of February 1983 when I had my first taste of being snowed in at the Manor. Thirty-six inches of snow fell in two days. Luckily, I obeyed my grandfather when he told me to park my car in his driveway, closer to the road. It was two weeks until enough snow melted that I was able to get it back my lane, but I was able to walk in and out to the car and back home. 

Cars quickly passed and SUVs became my vehicle of choice. With four-wheel drive, I'm able to break open tracks in the lane and get in and out without much problem. 

Then one fateful day, the spousal unit and I decided to purchase a sub-contract tractor with several attachments, including a bucket, a backhoe, and a snowblower. Here on the Manor we're not afraid to sing "Let it Snow!" Heck, I even traded my trusty Blazer in on a Charger, which, if you know cars, does not go well in the snow. (I drive the partner's pickup when it snows.)

The caveat to having this handy piece of snow moving equipment is that every year the loader and bucket need to come off the John Deere 1023 and the snowblower needs to go on. I'm sure it was a MAN who designed how the snowblower mounts up. 

Today was the day we decided to make the switch. It's always easier to do this before it gets bitterly cold but after we no longer need the loader and bucket for outside work. November is the time, generally over Thanksgiving weekend. But today was a balmy 60F and the ten-day forecast across next weekend is for cold and rain. So today it was. 

My partner can no longer get on the ground. More precisely, if he gets on the ground getting off the ground may not happen without someone calling for a lot of help. I'm the one who crawls under the John Deere 1023 and shoves the shaft over the sprocket and seeds the coupler. I don't like that job but it's not too difficult.

It normally takes about an hour to do this task. Today took longer. I'd not yet blown the leaves out from under the carport where we park the tractor, so I had to do that once the 1023 had been moved out. The old Craftsman mower had been parked where we rest the loader and bucket over the winter and when I tried to start it, it refused to fire and needed to be pushed out of the way. The 1023 needed to be fueled. The Colorado needed to be moved as I'd parked it too close to the shed to swing the tractor through the doors. Yes, we were an unorganized mess. 

In the end, tempers held, experience worked, and the job was accomplished. The 1023 and the John Deere 370 mower are both fueled. The pin is in the backhoe, and the loader and bucket sitting on level ground. We even called for carry-out for dinner so no one had to cook. And you know what?

Let. It. Snow. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor