The Winter of Our Discontent

I do not know why, but “Now is the winter of our discontent” is one of my favorite lines in Shakespeare. It may be because I studied Richard III in high school during the Nixon presidency and a manipulative executive had a ring to it. Or it may be that it begins one of the great prologues in the theater.

Anyway, I have a habit of quoting it when it is cold dark and things look at their worst. (Don’t worry this isn’t about US politics. I only talk about that when I get paid.) Nor is this about seasonal affective disorder. (I don’t need bad weather to be depressed, it’s my norm.)

No, this is how winter makes everything harder. My last week was a great example. I woke up Sunday to a flat on “The Truck” (my 2008 Ford) caused by a sheet metal screw embedded in the tread. No problem, changing tires is no sweat, except the rim had adhered to the mounting plate. Fortunately, I was at home and could get a pry. Once it was removed and the spare on, it would be a quick trip to my dealer (ALWAYS BUY ROAD HAZARD INSURANCE) except it was Sunday, so busted tire is thrown in the bed.

Monday I woke to a blizzard. Not a major one by Colorado standards. This only dumped 6 inches overnight. But it meant leaving early so the dropping the tire off had to wait because the commute was twice as long . . . with a spare . . . and a constant signal from my tire sensor about the flat tire. . . and Boulder is slow in plowing side streets.

Tuesday, the tire is fixed. YEAH! Except that there is so much snow on the ground that I can’t put the regular tire back on – the jack keeps sinking and the ice on the lug nuts make it impossible to get the tire tool on them.

Finally, when it has warmed to 20 degrees and I can dig out a patch, the repaired tire goes back on. Then I have to clean the underside storage area to put the spare back in place.

Bottom Line – I hate winter (or I did last week).

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