You know who really has some Floyd stories? Walter, the guy who gave me the record player and Pulse album. He's been to I bet more than a dozen shows. I've been to one. I just saw signs of life from him on Facebook.
In more boring news, the snow. I started off with the shovel around 4 PM but decided to try starting the snow blower before too long. It had been sitting since God knows when and the first dozen pulls produced no love. But there was a gas can right there. I mean I had tried using it on some wet snow the year before I guess but the details ... well, I don't remember the details. It's my niece's house but I've been "the man" around here for a couple of years.
Anyway, it worked. And the snow was the right kind, soft and fluffy, to be moved by the blower. Even so, it was a bitch. The machine is not meant for tall people. My back, my knees, my shoulder ... ugh. Never mind all that, my heart! I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't die out there was because I didn't want to step over into eternity with the last thing I hear is SWMBO saying "I told you not to over-do it! You never listen to me! Look at you now!"
