You’d have to live under a rock to not hear about the big snow storm that buried the Mid-Atlantic. It also buried me. Originally, I was excited because they were calling for almost a foot of snow for the little po-dunk town I live in. You see, growing up, I remember big snows and how much fun it was sled-riding, building snowmen and forts. We’ve had some ‘okay’ snows, but I have to admit, I was jealous when other states were getting more than our four inches. And to be honest, earlier in the week they called for snow that never came. So, when they put us in 4-7 inches on the map, I thought we’d be lucky to get three, especially since when it started to snow, it wasn’t even lying.
In five hours, we had ten inches of snow. Ten inches of heavy, wet snow and by the looks of it, it wasn’t quitting anytime soon. This snow storm dumped a little over two feet of snow.
Living in Po-dunk, I know that the plow will inevitably breeze on by. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. We dug and dug and dug some more and we were struggling to find places to put the snow we’d just finished digging. The plow went through making a pass, but we were under a ‘State of Emergency’ and my van, Big Blue, turns into a toboggan. So, I wasn’t worried about digging it out. None of us had really any place to go that we couldn’t walk too. My mom had to work next door and she lives about six blocks away and down towards the river. She walked up with my oldest son after he tried to dig her out. I told her I would take the next door neighbor’s car and bring her home, because the temperatures were dropping and they had warnings about black ice. She’s had three back surgeries and the last thing I needed or she needed was to fall. Besides, her area should’ve been plowed by then, right?
Now, this is where I say, I grew up with snow. I know how to drive in it. I know what you’re supposed to do when you start to slip and slide. I’m not a pro, but I’m not a rookie either. I get down there no problem in the neighbor’s AWD. I turn to go down her street and I slide to the right and feel the car dig down in. It wasn’t plowed. I’m not driving a four-wheel-drive. I attempt to rock it back and forth and nothing. I swear and get out of the car to trudge down the rest of the street to get to her house to grab a shovel. I refuse to call for help at this point because I can do this and have I mentioned I live with an Alpha male? And the angle of the car, my mom can’t even help to get out because of the snow and the other car that’s now beside me—parked. So, I furiously dig, get back in and I can see the smoke from the rubber on the tires. I now know that I have to make that call. More swearing. Because our rescuers have to walk in this and no one has a vehicle worthy of pulling us out. My mom and I continue to fight to get it out and we manage too. I’m ecstatic. I call back home and tell them to not worry, I’ll be home soon.
As I’m doing this, my mom says something about driving it to the end of the road, and I’m still talking to Mark as she goes to the end of the road. Now, let me break saying if she goes left, she’d heading out and back towards the main highway. If she turns right, she’s headed down towards the river and you still have to loop to bring it back out towards the highway. It’s not a huge loop, but it is when nothing has been plowed down there.
Which way do you think she turned?
She turned right and I stood watching down the alley for headlights that never came. More swearing and more lectures from the man in my ear as I’m trudging through two feet of snow in my fake Uggs—which aren’t very conducive in this much snow, ankle socks, my light fleece jammies, my coat. No hat, no gloves, and I fall. Not once, but twice. And no, that didn’t hurt because well, it’s two feet of snow. But it was cold. I persevere and see her finally at a resting place right dab in the middle of the street.
Yelling at this point isn’t going to make anything better, but I wanted too. Instead, I picked up the phone and called Mark again and told him where we were. I let him do the yelling while I dug and hoped for a miracle. Because this street had one set of tracks. An Avalanche’s tracks. And as we were pulling in, ironically, he was pulling out.
Heather-Luck.
Only he came back with his company’s slow plow. My savior. Just as Mark and my oldest get down there, I’m explaining to them what happened. Both of them looked at my mom and asked her why she didn’t just go up–as in left. She said she didn’t know. None of us knew either. The car was bottomed in. We dug and we pushed and we tried to rock it out, but you know the story of Humpty Dumpty.
Finally they came up with a plan. Now, if this had been my vehicle, I’d have left it until they could plow me out. But it wasn’t my car. Smouse got his plow backed up to the Ford and they made a make-shift tow-strap and managed to get the car out. Only I wasn’t in it. I had to trudge some more and by this time, my toes are numb, the snow on me from falling has now melted and I’m wet. And my mom can’t keep up with my pace.
Ten very cold minutes later, she was home and we were on our way home.
This town is still not dug out completely because its plow truck broke. We may not be dug out until April, because on Tuesday another snow storm is coming. Mark said as soon as this is safe enough to drive in, he’s trading the Camry in for a 4WD and that I should look into an AWD. But I love my Big Blue. Even when it looks like this:
Ha! I’m not so sure if I deserve this award, after all, I’ve been acting more like Mr. Crabby than Spongebob as of late, but today has been a pretty good day. I opened the damn file and so far have three solid pages in which to work with. The majority of it is dialogue–go figure, but it’s good dialogue.
Did you hear about the teacher who was helping one of her reception class pupils put on his boots?
