Snow What

More often than not, we get a white Christmas in these parts. But, we had nary a flake this year. It was unseasonably warm well into November and December. My daughter kept saying things like, "It's great that it's still so warm!" In my head I was thinking, "It's called global warming! We're all gonna die!" Anyway, Mother Nature got back on schedule last night and dumped a foot of snow on us. A foot isn't that terrible, but the high winds caused some crazy drifting. I made it to work on time, but I couldn't get into the parking lot. This never happens. My boss does not like to take any chances when it comes to employees being able to work a full, productive day. Normally, even after a major snowstorm, the parking lot is clean as a whistle. But not today. The office building is near a hospital. I thought of parking over there and then hiking to the office, but I wasn't really dressed for that (I was wearing waterproof boots, but they weren't tall enough to take on the snow mountains). So, unsure of what to do, I decided to turn around and head home. I can work remotely if need be. It's not encouraged, but I figured I had a decent excuse.

On my way back home, I got stuck on the road the leads to my house. Suddenly, I was re-thinking my policy of not getting chummy with any of my neighbors. I have this policy for two reasons:  one, when I was in fourth grade, we lived in Vienna, Virginia and had the world's worst neighbors. Apparently, our family made the mistake of being nice to them and then the next thing we knew, their kids were knocking on our windows when we were sleeping and stuff like that. Two, I have two dogs and usually have a foster dog, too. I worry that nosey-begosies will start complaining to animal control about the fact that I usually have an extra dog in my home (the ordinance allows for two dogs). So, I always feel like it's best if neighborly interaction is limited to a wave and the occasional "How's it going?"

As I was busily doing completely ineffective things to get my car to move (like switching from Drive to Reverse and back again), a neighbor I'd never seen before came out of his house with a shovel and started digging my car out. He seemed like a nice guy, even though he was wearing a Chicago Blackhawks hat (Go, Caps!).  Finally, with his help, I was able to get to my driveway . . . where I promptly got stuck again. I let the car sit there for a while  (half in the driveway and half in the street) as I pondered my options (I did my pondering indoors, where it was warm). Eventually I bundled up and headed back out to jab at the snow around the tires with a snow shovel. I am not good at this stuff, in all honesty. I'm way too prissy for shoveling snow. My husband was at work or I would have just left the job for him.

I felt sorry for the guy across the street who was clearing his driveway with a snowblower. I think he was trying not to make eye contact with me lest he'd feel obligated to help my sorry ass. I kept jabbing at the snow, periodically hopping into the car to try again. Just then, a woman came by with a younger woman - I think they were mother and daughter. I don't even know where they came from - they just appeared. They offered to push my car up the driveway. I gratefully accepted their help.

"Just a second," said the mom-lady.  She grabbed my snow shovel and cleared all kinds of snow in about ten seconds flat. I mean, she must have been born in a snow pile or something. She was so fast - like a cartoon or something!  I seriously felt like a pussy.

I got behind the wheel again and tried my luck. The ladies pushed from behind and voila! I made it back into the driveway and into the garage. I thanked them profusely. I then vowed to stay in my house for the rest of my natural life.

I spent the morning/afternoon working from home. I was actually able to get a fair amount done. I moved Gideon's bed into the office so that he could be my assistant for the day. I've always wanted my own assistant. I guess I was envisioning someone more industrious, but I'll take what I can get.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's been a minute, but let's talk about my b*o*o*b*s

Image
I'm in the sixth grade. I'm sitting on the floor at my friend Sharon's house. Rachel is there, too. My well-meaning friends turn to me and gently let me know that I "really don't need to bother wearing a bra." They aren't wrong. I'm wearing one, but the situation doesn't particularly warrant it.  Two years later, I found myself sporting a C cup. My mom, a talented seamstress, made me a dress at about that time. It was a slim-fitting column dress with a matching jacket, as I recall. The white fabric had large polka dots; we jokingly called it the Wonder Bread dress. My mom took my measurements. 36-24-36 At some point in history, those numbers were considered "perfect measurements" for a woman. This was 1984; I'd like to think the world as a whole is less concerned about such things these days. I'm confident my daughter has no earthly idea what her measurements are. She just knows she's cute.  Growing up with a fun array of medi...
Read more

On Being Patriotic

The list of adjectives I assign to myself is pretty long: clumsy, organized, competent, uptight, etc. One that might surprise you: patriotic. I fully understand what it means to be an American and am darned happy about living here. But, I have a beef (that part won't surprise you). I've grown tired of certain segments of the population thinking that they've cornered the market on patriotism or that they can dictate precisely how the rest of us express ourselves when it comes to our shared country and flag. Sometimes it seems like the Toby-Keith-boot-in-yer-ass brand of patriotism drowns out the rest of us. For the record, I don't believe that patriotism requires a love of NASCAR, a disdain for immigrants, a Republican voting record, or a preference for country music. Nor does it require adherence to a specific religion. I've seen Facebook posts from some of my friends and acquaintances that call for all of us to return to the "Christian principles on which ...
Read more

14 Weeks

Image
My baby is leaving me in 14 weeks.  She and I started touring colleges in May of 2022. When I applied to colleges back in 1988, I was an English major so there were no auditions. Colleges basically just said, "Sounds good. Come on in." I was the first person in my immediate family to go to college and as a whole, I don't think we understood the importance of campus visits and such. I ended up being fairly miserable that first year until I transferred to a school closer to home. For my daughter, I wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to see lots of college campuses so that she had the best shot at figuring out what she wants out of the college experience. I wanted her to look at elements like campus size and location, diversity, activities, distance from home, and distance from the nearest "big city" (since performers often head to larger cities with active theatre scenes after college).  Last summer, we began the daunting process known as "getting int...
Read more