Hands up, whoever thought that with the play in production I would immediately return to making “real” posts? Heads down in shame, all of you who are pointing and laughing because you knew darn well I would not. I don’t mean you should feel ashamed because I am about to do a brilliant post about a Mohawk Valley adventure. I just don’t like it when people point and laugh.
I had thought to do a Middle-aged Musings Monday today, but a considerate co-worker brought me a copy of the new issue of Mohawk Valley Living, and I spent my lunch hour reading that instead of writing a blog post. I will instead type in a few words about the bad weather adventure I had after work today. By adventure, I’m afraid I mean misadventure.
The Mohawk Valley is having a winter storm, as is much of the northeast. It is cold and has been snowing like a sonofabitch all day (I love to say things are doing something like a sonofabitch). I suppose this made a bit of a change from the straight cold weather we have been having, but perhaps I am being too glass-half-full.
My misadventure began, as many of my misadventures do, with me thinking I am being clever. I left work and drove to my husband’s place of employment, to switch vehicles. This meant my SUV would be last in the driveway tomorrow morning, when I leave for work prior to 5 a.m. It further meant that Steven would have the 4-wheel drive for coming home after 6 p.m. After all, it was continuing to snow.
I could get the little old Stratus into the driveway. Just swing wide and power it through, right? Turns out, not so much. In my defense, I have not driven a vehicle this size since 1989, when I had a 10-year-old Pinto I fondly called Feather Car. Of course I got hung up at the end of the driveway. I felt I had a small blessing in that the car was completely out of the road at least. I turned it off, got out and grabbed a shovel.
I shoveled, tried to move the car, repeat. Things were not going well. I thought a good push would help. But there was only one of me. Then I saw my across the street neighbor shoveling his own driveway. He is a strapping young man, and a very nice one. I went over and asked his help. I wanted to ask him to drive the car while I pushed, because it is my car after all, but that seemed a little silly given our relative sizes.
He told me to back the car all the way out, which I did without getting hung up in the snowbank. Phew! He shoveled out where the car had been and told me to try it again. I felt really bad about this, because dammit, I am supposed to shovel my own driveway. Before I pulled the car back in I brushed off the windows again. I perhaps should have done that before I pulled back out of the driveway, but one does not always behave in the ideal fashion.
After my neighbor’s efforts with the shovel, I got the car in the driveway. I thanked him profusely. What a great neighbor! He asked me was I all set. I assured him that I was. I shoveled a bit more, including a short area in the back for Tabby’s business meetings.
Other areas have gotten more snow than I did. Other people have bigger driveways to shovel. Other bad weather travails outweigh mine. Other people do not have nice neighbors to help them. Well, I never said I was Job. I’m just telling you a little story about my day. I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow, which will be Tuesday but I hope not Tired Tuesday.
Mohawk Valley Girl 