The last couple of days the weather forecast for my area included a winter storm. I didn’t really believe that, given that the spring flowers are up. I thought for sure that as it got closer, the forecast would change because it doesn’t snow this time of year. It turns out that it actually does snow here this time of year.
It started last night and it was close to being a blizzard. We had freezing rain, sleet and snow. Although I have to admit that I still don’t really know the difference between freezing rain and sleet.
I decided this morning that I was going to run some errands. DH* was disapproving but I didn’t think much about it since he is always disapproving of something at any given moment. He made a comment about there being a foot of snow outside and I assumed that he was exaggerating. He’s known around here as a disapproving exaggerator, therefore I never actually believe anything that he says.
I continued with the business of getting my parka, purse and hat for the dangerous trip to the store. I didn’t look out the window and was somewhat surprised to see that everything was completely covered in snow. Never being one to give up easily or exhibit too much common sense, I continued my journey to my snow-covered car. Once I got in the car I realized that the first issue was that I didn’t have a scraper. I have no idea why there isn’t a scraper in my car but apparently there never has been. I started the car and cranked up the heat hoping that the ice would start to melt and I could see to drive. But I still had the problem of my windshield covered in close to a foot of snow.
I toyed with the idea of going back in the house to find a scraper but it was really hard to walk through the deep snow. Not to mention that there was no guarantee that I would even find a scraper in the house. I saw the snow shovel leaning by the side of the house and decided that would work. In fact it worked pretty well until I noticed a bad scraping sound coming from the shovel scratching the hood of the car. Fortunately I was about done by then anyway so I just used my arm to get the rest. I’m afraid to see what the paint looks like once the snow is gone. I’m going to feign ignorance if anyone asks.
I managed to get my now warm and snow-cleared car turned around in the driveway and was on my way out when I lost traction. I did the stuff you are supposed to do, backing a little and going forward without spinning the wheels and making it worse. It still didn’t budge. Since I managed to get one vehicle firmly entrenched in the snow, I did the logical thing. I abandoned it and moved on to the next car. N drives my dad’s old Buick and since it is big and heavy, it seemed like the logical choice for my next attempt at leaving the house. Plus, it was parked in front of the house, which made it an attractive option for a backup plan.
I called N. hoping that he would bring me the keys. He wasn’t interested in leaving the house and had Katie throw them out on the front porch. I lurched through the deep snow, up the porch stairs and picked up the keys. I was trying to carefully navigate the stairs and instead fell down them. I got back up and successfully completed the trek to N.’s snow-covered car. I started it, got the heat going and began my search for a scraper. I didn’t find a scraper but I did score a great big table saw blade that was still in the plastic packaging.
I had most of the snow removed before the plastic opened up leaving me standing there holding an extremely sharp saw blade, probably with a dumb look on my face. I'm just lucky that much of the paint had already peeled off N.'s car.
I finally got in the car, miraculously with all my digits still attached and made my way down the street. I was several blocks from home when I noticed that the car was making a strange clunking noise. I knew the car was low on gas since N. had mentioned that I would need to put some in. I just didn’t know that it was completely empty. I headed for the gas station praying that I would make it on roughly threes drops left in the tank. I pulled in right after a truck that proceeded to stop at the first tank instead of pulling forward. I had to do something like an eight point turn to get around to the other side of the gas pumps, while my dad’s old Buick continued clanking in protest. I was not happy with the other driver.
I paid for the gas and went on my way to my next stop, the drive-thru ATM. I pulled up to the machine and then remembered that I was in a ghetto cruiser that had the driver’s side window duct-taped shut. I backed up and walked to the ATM, did my transaction and got back in the car. Instead of just going forward, the back end went sideways coming dangerously close to hitting both a yellow post and the stupid little building. I stopped and tried to straighten the car out on the slush and packed snow. It was just like the driveway all over again. Since it wasn’t my house, I didn’t have the luxury of just abandoning the vehicle and taking another. Well, at least not without a risking a felony record.
I got out and looked at the tires as if that was going to solve the problem. Just then an old couple driving by stopped and offered to help. The man looked about seventy-five or so. This is about when I remembered to be embarrassed about what I was driving. He wanted to give me instructions through the window, which was of course, duct-taped shut. I rolled down the back window while explaining that it was my teenage son’s car. I tried to turn the steering wheel the way I was told while the guy pushed. I was scared to death that I would accidentally run over him. The car still wasn’t working despite my expert maneuvering so the old man told me to get out and just let him do it. Maybe he was a little afraid as well. I exited the vehicle with thoughts of the ghetto cruiser being permanently marred by the yellow paint on the post, thinking, “Oh my God, it only has liability insurance but at least I won’t kill anyone”
The guy moved it forward a bit and then backed it right out. It was nothing short of amazing.
Me- “Thank you so much! I don’t think I would have ever gotten it out of there.”
Old Guy- “You’re welcome. Now go home and behave.”
*If you’re new here, DH does not stand for darling husbands the way it does on the blogs with kittens and unicorns. Or rainbows. We won’t be having any of that business around here.