Why, you ask? Why do I hate you with the violent, fiery passion of a thousand dying suns? Why do I pray that death comes on swift wings to release you from this vail of tears?
Because it's YOUR fault, this snowy mess I now find myself in. Because YOU had to tell me that winter wasn't so bad, that it hadn't been super cold (yes it was, it just didn't last forever), that it hadn't snowed too much - basically, you were trying to make me feel bad about whining. You tried to help me appreciate that, while I have to wear the big puffy down jacket and boots every day, it could be worse - there could be three feet of snow! You were trying to help me gain some perspective.
You failed.
Also? You tempted fate.
I tried to warn all you people, I really did. Every time one of you said anything like, "Y'know, winter may be almost over. It hasn't been too bad this year!" I replied with, "Oh, no no no, don't say that! You don't SAY that!"
But noooooo. Y'all didn't listen. Y'all had to try and cheer me up by reminding me it could be worse. And in so doing, you caught the attention of Fate, that fickle mistress who just waits for people like Xander to screw up and say things like, "So long as nothing bad happens..." to which the Buffys and Willows of the world reply, "Why did you say that? Now something bad is gonna happen. It's the ultimate curse."
And Fate has cursed us.
I hate you, please die.
When I woke Friday morning, there was snow. Not a ton, but it was there, it was noticeable, a little skiff of powder adhering to everything without sun exposure. Nothing too terrible, or even annoying, really.
But Saturday? Well, Saturday I didn't arise from my bed until nearly noon - not that I was sleeping, I just didn't feel like getting out of bed before then. When I did get out of bed, and look outside, it was a winter wonderland. As in, "I wonder when this happened" (while I was sleeping), and "I wonder how in the h I am supposed to get my car over to PetsMart and buy kitty litter today" (a joint trip in Cathie's truck fixed that) and "I wonder how much more is gonna pile on?" (a lot).
It snowed ALL DAY Saturday. Cathie and I had errands to run, and when we walked outside, her truck looked like this:
Yeah, that's, oh, probably eight inches of snow piled on the top. And this was around noon hour - it snowed until 7-ish? Possibly later, but I stopped looking outside - it just made me sad.
Now, I have boots. I have my beautiful Josef Seibel boots (which I am not dumb enough to wear in this weather - I want them to stay beautiful); I have my new black Uggs (which I have waterproofed, but yesterday I was still in the "new boots are not to be worn in deep snow" phase - which lasted until church this morning); and my old brown Uggs, which served me very well in Utah snow.
Well, my brown Uggs only go to the bottom of my calf, and the snow was deeper than the bottom of my calf, and my jeans were apparently very snow-friendly, because about a billion snowflakes decided they liked it better hanging around my lower legs, and hitched a ride, both inside and outside.
I took a couple of pictures to show how deep the snow was - except I took them before it stopped snowing, so mentally add about two more inches to each of these pictures:
This is the view from the front porch. Out back, there's a handy dandy table to showcase the snowfall:
Then there was the driving, which: driving in the snow = not my favorite. Mostly because I hate the sloshy feeling of my car trying to maintain traction. I have excellent snow tires, and my car is heavy enough that I don't slide around like a sedan, but it's still an uncomfortable feeling. Yesterday, I went with Cathie, and she drove, but today I had to drive to church. First, though, I had to locate and excavate my car. I call this next one, "Dude, where's my car?
Because that shapeless hillock in front of me cannot possibly be my vehicle". Once I got my car unearthed, I had to back out through a three-foot high berm of snow left by whoever plowed the back lane. I'm pretty sure at one point I heard my car groan, "Chick, you crazy?" as I was slowly forcing it backwards out of the parking space. I gave it a little pep-talk ("Please, little car-car, we have to get to church. I'm not walking from the LRT station, and we have to get Amy!"), and my sweet little es-cah-pay dug deep into her reserves of power and forged a path through the snow.
I know it could have been worse; we could have had snow like this in, oh, October, or multiple heavy duty snowfalls throughout December and January. I know that I should be grateful that it's only gotten like this now, when it's nearly March, but, wait, no, I'm NOT grateful, because I hate snow! Each time it snows, I realize more and more just how much I loathe it. So I'm not grateful that it's nearly March and we're just now getting heavy snowfall, because I'm not grateful for ANY snow, AT ALL! And I'm gonna be a whiny little baby about it for a little while, because I had an 85 degree Christmas which undid any acclimatizing I may have gained last year, and it hasn't been bad until now. And because I TRIED to warn all the imbeciles around here, any time they marveled at the not-too-bad weather, that, "Shh! The snow will HEAR you and FIND us!" And they ignored me, or laughed and said I was silly.
So I'm gonna whine and complain like those annoying people in the Snickers commercials, and I'd appreciate it if someone would dial whine-one-one and get a waaambulance over here, stat, because I could really use a wamburger and cries right about now.
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