Mauser KAR98K
01-03-14, 11:57
Finally we get some snow yonder here in TN, albeit not much. I take my dear mother to work (does not like driving in snowy conditions if she can help it) with a reward of a nice breakfast, then to a round of shopping. As she heads off inside the hospital she turns and tells me to salt the deck so we don't slip and fall. No problem. My mom has had several incidents that have involved broken bones do to this. Very adamant about clearing the snow and ice off of steps and the ramp.
I go home, enjoy the view of the outside of the falling flakes, and concluded that when I got up to get here in the morning, I will salt the deck, and maybe the Earth...oops, that is a Roman thing.
Four hours of bad sleep later, I awoke to a head-ache, eye strain and the sun peeking in. For the record, I am not a morning person. At. All.
I get dressed, slap on the gub, walk out into the 10 degree cold and realized, "need to salt the deck." I go back in grab the new white and yellow bag, open it and proceeded to pour salt on the deck, noting it had a very fine consistency. Much finer than some other salts I have spread once before. Placed the bag by the door and off to the 40 minute drive to civilization.
Had a nice breakfast thanks to Crackle Barrel caving, shopping was great, entertaining my sleep deprived mother in the process, (it really is an experience shopping with me), loaded the Jeep and off we go.
Arriving back home, I noticed to my chagrin that salt did not melt the deck and ramp at all. I was quite disappointment and commented, "that salt SUCKS!" So I am dreading the walk back and forth with "bulk" goods up the ramp, more so for my dear mom.
All was well; no slips or bums to Earth moments. My mom did note that the cold air and snow was so cold that her shoes would "stick" to the rugs and kitchen floor.
After putting our stuff away, I head to my room, getting ready to go back to bed when:
"Jason, you IDIOT! Can you freakin' read?"
I scurry out to see my mom holding the white and yellow bag. "This isn't salt, it is SUGAR! You just put close to 25 pounds of sugar on the deck!"
On the bag, it did, in fact, say sugar. In my drowsy hast, and low light conditions, compounded that I am NOT a mourning subject, I grabbed the white and yellow bag that generally for us has been the salt bag, and I thus sprinkled generously my deck and ramp with sugar. adding salt to the wound--ha-ha--that sticky sensation my mom noted wasn't do to the cold snow, but the sugar we have been tracking in.
So today's task is now steam cleaning my carpets, and laughing my ass off.
Reading, how does it work. (And I am a recent college graduate to boot. Go figure.)
I go home, enjoy the view of the outside of the falling flakes, and concluded that when I got up to get here in the morning, I will salt the deck, and maybe the Earth...oops, that is a Roman thing.
Four hours of bad sleep later, I awoke to a head-ache, eye strain and the sun peeking in. For the record, I am not a morning person. At. All.
I get dressed, slap on the gub, walk out into the 10 degree cold and realized, "need to salt the deck." I go back in grab the new white and yellow bag, open it and proceeded to pour salt on the deck, noting it had a very fine consistency. Much finer than some other salts I have spread once before. Placed the bag by the door and off to the 40 minute drive to civilization.
Had a nice breakfast thanks to Crackle Barrel caving, shopping was great, entertaining my sleep deprived mother in the process, (it really is an experience shopping with me), loaded the Jeep and off we go.
Arriving back home, I noticed to my chagrin that salt did not melt the deck and ramp at all. I was quite disappointment and commented, "that salt SUCKS!" So I am dreading the walk back and forth with "bulk" goods up the ramp, more so for my dear mom.
All was well; no slips or bums to Earth moments. My mom did note that the cold air and snow was so cold that her shoes would "stick" to the rugs and kitchen floor.
After putting our stuff away, I head to my room, getting ready to go back to bed when:
"Jason, you IDIOT! Can you freakin' read?"
I scurry out to see my mom holding the white and yellow bag. "This isn't salt, it is SUGAR! You just put close to 25 pounds of sugar on the deck!"
On the bag, it did, in fact, say sugar. In my drowsy hast, and low light conditions, compounded that I am NOT a mourning subject, I grabbed the white and yellow bag that generally for us has been the salt bag, and I thus sprinkled generously my deck and ramp with sugar. adding salt to the wound--ha-ha--that sticky sensation my mom noted wasn't do to the cold snow, but the sugar we have been tracking in.
So today's task is now steam cleaning my carpets, and laughing my ass off.
Reading, how does it work. (And I am a recent college graduate to boot. Go figure.)