Editor’s Note: This column was orginally published Jan. 12, 2015.
Well, here you are again, Old Man Winter, you slick and cool fella. I can’t say I’ve missed you, but I can say I’ve become overly fascinated with you all over again.
It’s been a whole year, but the thing is, you have this control over me — what I should wear, how I should plan my day and whether or not I can make it out of my driveway. You own me.
Now I drive a larger vehicle, namely because of the husband, three kids, dog and all the baloney we have to haul around with us when we leave the house. So when you piled on some 6 inches of snow last week I wasn’t extremely worried, even when it didn’t pan out to have our driveway plowed immediately.
As the snow sparkled down our lane, I zipped right through it. I think I even laughed. Perhaps you heard it, and that’s why you sought revenge the following day?
I should have know when I got home that night and saw part of our mailbox in the ditch, my luck was changing. Apparently a casualty to a snow plow, the mailbox was sitting in 6 inches of snow, delightfully placed next to my copy of the Newton Daily News. Shocked, I drove up to the house and complained to my husband about it. Since he was cooking, and I really enjoying eating without the bother of food preparation, I strapped on my winter gear and made my way up the driveway to investigate further.
The mailbox was unharmed, and apparently, the thing slides right back on to the post. Crisis averted.
But I imagine that chuckle that escaped my lips was too much for you to take wasn’t it? When I tried to make my way out the following morning I imagine you had a laugh yourself.
The soft, powdery, harmless snow that I drove through the day before had been replaced by drifts that were rock solid and impenetrable. But I tried anyway, didn’t I? Of course. A few times. Gratefully, I have new tires on my vehicle, and with those tires I was able to turn, burn and eventually make my way back to the garage, where I considered sobbing.
I didn’t succumb to the frustration. Working remotely did catch me off guard, but I persevered. With the help of a professional plower outer, I eventually made my way into town. You didn’t beat me.
But you weren’t done with me yet, were you?
It’s like you just knew we were driving to Iowa City and made the drive home unbearable.
Granted, I always make my husband drive through whiteouts and blowing snow, I think you knew I was sitting there quite terrified for the length of the trip.
And, again with the driveway? Seriously? I bet you thought it was a real hoot when my husband asked if we should “go for it” as we approached the completely snow packed drive. As if we had any other choice. Well we made it, buddy. Good luck trying to defy our tenacity.
The thing is, Old Man, I don’t hate you. There are things I enjoy about you.
Truth be told, I like my snow boots. They are quite warm, but more importantly, they leave snowflake prints as I walk. They make me feel like a snow princess, and that’s precisely why I overpaid for them several years ago. Also, I enjoy a collection of hats and scarves. Hot cocoa and hot tea? Yes. A warm fire on a cold night? You bet.
The problem is, my dog all but refuses to go outside because of the bitter cold. While I stand there with the door open, coaxing her to “go potty” and to “please, please go potty” I know you’re mocking us. For me, animal cruelty is where I draw the line.
We must find a better way to get along these next few months.
Contact Abigail Pelzer at 641-792-3121
ext. 6530 or apelzer@newtondailynews.com