I know you’re probably tired of hearing snow stories, but you’re reading a blog about a girl living in Minnesota.
So deal with it.
Oh yes, that’s right. I’m bitter.
Previous post, I was all about forgiveness. Well, I’m still working on it, PEOPLE!!!
We are in the middle of a snowstorm…total inches, to be determined…
I’m OK with the snow. I like it. As long as I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything and as long as I have all I need right in my house and plenty of groceries and lots of fun things for the kids to do and the heater is working and we don’t lose our electricity…I do, I like it.
Let me give you a little back story.
I have a REALLY steep driveway. You saw the backyard. The driveway in the front is also super steep and hard to really show in pictures because it curves. A couple of times. But here goes.
Here I am looking down the driveway from the front porch steps.
What? What is that I see? Oh, a car! Well, what are you doing down there? Come on up! Oh…that’s right…Oh, you can’t get up. Man. Stuck again? Sigh. OK! Hang on, let me get my coat on over my pajamas and get you out.
Pajamas? Well, I didn’t want to bring this up. I was trying to keep it under wraps, but it just adds to the story, so here goes. I’m sick…with some horrible thing that makes me sound like Darth Vader, a croupy cough and chills off and on. It hasn’t been pleasant. My friends who have called the last few days, depending on the status of what I’ve coughed up recently, have been alarmed at my grossness. (I’ve recently asked my brother how to cough up a loogie and he has given me detailed instructions, but I STILL cannot seem to master it!)
If it were just one car, one day…it would be a funny little story about that one time a car got stuck in the driveway…but this is the fifth car, at LEAST, that I’ve gotten out this past month or so. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of ice. Sometimes, it’s the vast quantity of snow. Other times, like today, there was a rink of ice UNDER the vast quantity of snow.
Last week, twice, we got one particular friend’s car out…after an hour of pushing. I won’t say names…it rhymes with Shortney…we’ve had some good laughs getting her car unstuck. Also, my friend…rhymes with Kosha…good times. My friend…rhymes with Span. My friend…rhymes with Cherika. And today…many, MANY times over, I’ve gotten this one out…rhymes with Dama.
No, I’m not cussing. I’m not a cusser, but I tell you, I almost wanted to take it up.
Let me insert here that we do have a plow guy. He just never comes on time. And Nate? Yes, he does help. He has gotten me and our friends out of many scrapes. But today, for instance, he was working across town and if I hadn’t gotten it out in time, the plow guy would have just KEPT ON DRIVING…because that’s what they do. And that just can’t happen, because then we’d never get out…
So, imagine me pulling on my grey snow boots over my pink pajama pants that Nate bought me for Valentine’s Day. I’m wearing a pink tank, a pink hoodie, black coat flapping open…cause I’m a little peeved. Frizzy hair…because I’m sick and don’t want to waste good hair products on days that I’m just not going to be able to pull pretty off anyway. Pink fleece gloves. I like pink. And a hefty shovel.
As soon as I step in the snow, it goes all the way past my boots, up on my pjs. The snow falls inside my boots. I hack and debate adding to the yellow snow, but sadly, since I can’t do the loogie, it doesn’t work. I get about five steps down and fall because this is my first realization about that whole ice rink thing. This is not the last time I fall.
By the time I get to the car, I’m wheezing an old man wheeze and my throat is on fire. I shovel around the tires and watch as a neighbor jogs by and tries to act like he doesn’t see me. Remember that tripping vision I’ve been dealing with? I wasn’t opposed to tripping his jogging self either. First of all, who jogs in a blizzard? Rhymes with Bom, that’s who.
Fortunately, at this point, the snow fall has taken a break. I’m praying that it won’t start back up until I’m snug in my house.
I get in the car and make a little progress. My objective is to move it just enough to allow the plow guy room to get up the driveway. We have another driveway going to the barn that doesn’t have to be plowed, so I thought I would just block that driveway.
Then an angel from heaven, rhymes with Bich, appears and says, “Would you like me to pull you out?”
“Yes, Lord, yes!” I say.
(It would have worked so much better for the story if it had been rhymes with Bom that had saved me and rhymes with Bich to be the jogger, but that wouldn’t have been the truth.)
In a matter of minutes, O Heavenly SUV has pulled me out and I park on the street. He comments on how I sound like death and even offers to drive me back up to the house. I thank him profusely. In my head, I thank him even more for not laughing at my hair and pajamas, but I think he picked up on that without me saying.
Now those blessed pajamas are drying in the dryer and I’m wrapped up in a blanket. I haven’t quite gotten my humor back yet, but writ
ing this has helped. Oh, and the snow? It started back up as soon as I got back inside.
OK. God does still love me.
A couple hours later…
It’s dark. It’s been steadily snowing all evening. I’m back in my toasty pink pajama ensemble. Getting ready to eat with the kids…Nate’s still working with Staci~ she’s leaving early and they’re trying to wrap things up. The doorbell rings.
It’s you-know-who, the good one…
“I thought you might need to move the car off the street now…the snow hasn’t let up so they’re probably gonna be plowing again soon.”
I stuff my pajamas back in my boots, throw my coat on, and step outside. The snow covers my boots and falls inside, getting everything all wet again.
I get in the car and say a prayer.
Midway up the driveway and…she’s stuck again.
I give up.