Conjestive Heart Failure More Condition_symptoms

it snow, let it snow, let it snow ...
Another example of the durability of things ... old. Or how objects, before it sinks into consumerism had a lifetime of "useful" much more viable and long. And this, again the theme of the observation of consciousness manufacturing.

few years ago, I found the back of a courtyard an old abandoned thrower, a Big Bertha antediluvian who had spent the last years clearly outside maintenance-free and we have not even used. In short, a wreck.
Having restoring old bikes, I was challenged to revive him. To do this, a summary dismantling and cleaning of components needed. I was expecting to have to put time and sweat for the pitiful look of the old machine boded no good. But I could not get credit for having worked hard, because the beast has awakened and quickly, not content to find its meaning (and gasoline) was humming all winter with reliability. .. remarkable.

Logically mechanics, to obtain good results in winter Next, I should have done what was necessary so that no fluid can clog the machine systems. But I did nothing. Yet the following winter, his engine started like clockwork without flinching and offered me another winter of mechanical reliability.

course, there is a large and heavy machine capable of swallowing everything in its path. Of course as his two-stroke engine pollutes m'enrobe as four and a tenacious fragrance. I feel like an aviator of the first war, smoky and oiled to perfection, proud of my achievement, having swallowed and move tons of snow.

Then seeing me sweat to maneuver the tank, I was a kind soul donated a snowblower more modern, lighter and more maneuverable.
I told myself that I had to update my winter behavior (and environmental). But as I began the first snow clearance, the exciting modern machine not offered me ten minutes of operation, and finally shut for the session. Not being a novice regarding this kind of engine, I tried to revive the fragile mechanics by any means I know. But in vain. So I chose my old Bertha.

Another snowfall, another chance to use the mischievous little machine ... But five minutes were enough for it forfeits forever. Has she been afraid of our snowbanks? My Big Bertha passed him, I could feel the vanity of the latter, as it roared to enjoy eating the snow.

short, this is another example that good old machines still have their place in this world!