Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Fin, S'il Vous Plaît

It wasn’t snowing that hard when I left the house. It had been flurrying pretty much non-stop for most of the morning and I could no longer make out the teeny-twin bookbag-wheel tracks from Connor’s trek down the drive to catch the 7am bus. I figured we had an inch…two tops…when I left.

I drove north, and then I drove west.
I drove to and fro…as the snow progressed.
At one point, I’ll admit…I loudly professed
“Alright, already! Just give it a rest!”

I’ll even give you a visual, so you may follow along in your “Guide To Kathryn’s Life”. Just turn to chapter 4, entitled The Tumultuous Years on page 178. There you go….

As you can well imagine, I was pretty tuckered out from all that sightseeing driving.

Imagine my surprise when I at last arrived on my local road, only to discover that it had become a bit slick, a ham & cheese on rye, downright TREACHEROUS.

That’s about the time I realized we now had a good 4-5” of crap snow on the driveway.

I now looked like this:

I got stuck the first time about halfway up. After shoveling, salting, sanding and cursing, I attempted to navigate the rest of the way and that’s when I got stuck the second time. More shoveling, more sanding, more salting, more cursing.

By the time Connor arrived home, I was this close to the garage…but stuck on a mound of ice, which kept me from moving backward or forward, but evidently had absolutely no issue with sliding me sideways, which was very annoying…as I’d placed the last of the salt and sand with the assumption that I’d move backward, then forward.


On my FINAL attempt before abandoning my vehicle altogether, I somehow managed to catch a patch of blacktop and I brought it on home, bay-bee.

Over the course of the last few hours, most of my family has called to check in. It’s a family tradition…when the weather’s bad, we want to know how everyone else is coping.

First, it’s my sister. Upon hearing I’d gotten stuck she inquired, “Did you gun it? I find the best thing to do in those situations is to gun it…the hell with the neighbor’s fence.”

Then, my other sister: “Did you try the Rock & Roll method? Gracie usually responds well to the Rock & Roll method.” (Gracie is her car. Uh-huh. Who names inanimate objects, anyway?)

Finally, it’s Dad: (I do not believe it snowed in France today, so brother is off-da-hook)
“Why were you out on such a crappy day, anyway? What happened to plowguy?”

Before I can respond, I hear my unusually-silent I.V. murmer in my ear “Like water on a duck, Kathryn”…and so, I let it all go……………..the ice…the snow….the never-ending cold…the wind chill…the whole, bleak, black & white world…and I promised myself “It will end. It can’t last forever…spring will come.”

But not soon enough.

Anonymous said...

Tell him "NOT SOON ENOUGH"!!!!

kathryn said...

Okay, sweetie....breathe....repeat after me: "Waldo Wackadoodle will make it all better...."

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