Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Snowed In

If I had a digital camera, I would post a picture of me first thing this morning, unbrushed hair that hasn't been cut since July, in PJs and unmatching (also super cute, monogrammed, and brown) robe, wearing my husband's boots untied over bare feet, placing my daughter's ruler nearly eight inches down in the snow in front of our home. (I hate having my picture made except, ironically, when I look my worst. First thing in the morning? Pregnancy? Bring it on! Because what do you expect?! Otherwise, I feel like I should look better than the camera says!) It's hard to tell exactly how much we really got, as I seem to get a different reading depending on where I stick the ruler. But it is lovely, as you can imagine. And it was mesmerizing as it came down. I could sit and watch snow fall for hours. And I sort of did. I have all sorts of poetic things I could say about how it looked like rivulets of crystals as it wafted down, sparkling as each facet of every flake caught the artificial light from the lamp post outside, but I stink at that sort of thing. Didn't that sound horribly contrived? And I'm not so sure that rivulets can also waft. Anyway, I was up watching the snow last night because of the following:

George had one of his double duty days where he left home at 6AM and worked until close at the Home Depot. He left after ten, with a thirty minute drive ahead, but soon discovered that the road that leads to the house on the hill was closed due to hazardous conditions. He then considered detouring to a road that would likely take him an extra thirty minutes to get home, but found a nearer route that, to me (because I am familiar with both passages), seemed like it should have been closed before the first as it is more prone to danger even without seven inches of snow.  But for whatever reason, it was not closed which implied that it was clear. But when George was nearly fifteen minutes from home, and through what most would think would be the worst of it, he slid sideways off the road into a darkened abyss (more poetry- I'm thinking maybe I just need practice ;) ). After his slip, two other cars followed in suit, and some lucky tower made $204 from their distress. Hey, one's man's disaster is another man's paycheck... Isn't that how it goes? 

This puts an end to, or maybe just a pause in, my bragging about the St. Louis preparedness for snow and how no one ever has to worry about a big snowfall because of all the quick work with salt and plows. Even with these few inconveniences, it is still nothing to Nashville where the regular and singular annual snowfall leads to a massive outbreak of panic and hysteria year after year. I think it is because it really isn't cold enough for snow in Nashville. They get icy snow in the night, it melts significantly, but not completely, during the day, but then freezes again at night, creating a sheet of ice over the city that weighs down power lines to their breaking point and turns streets into a multi-vehicular slip and slide. Good times. And I never was actually able to play in the snow like we can here in the Lou. It was too wet, and then too hard. Anyway, George got home sometime after midnight due to the encounter with the ditch and the half mile hike from the bottom of the hill where he parked upon arriving back home. He promptly called in "stuck" for work in six hours. Stuck or not, he would have been sick getting up in time for that hour commute (after he has been maintaining this type of pace for over a week- without the extra fiasco that is skidding into a ravine on black ice). And evidently, the van needs to be checked out to see if it is drivable (here's hopin'!). I can't imagine there are a whole lot of people at the offices he cleans today anyway. 

I, on the other hand, waited up for him but still had to get up for a whimpering Miss Puppy (not her name, still don't have a name....) who is fighting the house training hard at this point, due to the fact that there is seven inches of snow where I want her to go, and she is only about eight inches tall. Not that being home with three kids who spent large portions of their day playing out in the snow and house training a reluctant puppy is anything like working fourteen hours in addition to more than two hours worth of commuting and an icy off-road caper. I'd much rather be here! I have been baking and reading and running (and doing the minimal, but still sufficient enough to check off the day, homeschool)! Let's stay snowed in all week! 

Still need a puppy name. I have been thinking of ironic names like Snowflake because she is black, but nothing I really like. Then, last night, I looked at George and said "what about Cotton?" He looked stunned. Yeah, stunned, which was weird. He said, "what made you say that?" And I said, "I don't know; it's ironic. And you're eating biscotti- and I guess I was doing different takes on that word." He was like, "That is so weird, I was just thinking Cotton too." But now I am wondering if that wasn't just midnight madness. Keep thinking....


Anonymous said...

We are having one of our Nashville "snow days" today--and there is nothing to play in. I think it might be fun to have 8 inches once a year rather than four or five non-snow "snow days." Happy pajama day :) We are doing that much here!

e.c. said...

Poor George! That's terrible! I can think of few things worse than working a zillion hours and looking forward to finally crawling into bed, only to be stuck in the cold and have to wait to get towed!

Hoping your van is still drivable!

Love, Elizabeth

p.s. we are enjoying our non-snow snow day...I just wish I'd gotten the call before I had showered and dressed this morning!

Nathan Barlow said...

Okay I have just a few more names: Mora, Greta, Alma, Jasmine, Belle, Elvira, Elsa, Fleur, Eudora

jennifer h said...

Oooh. I hope the van is driveable.

I hope you get some good photos of the puppy in the snow. Cute photo op.

I like Cotton as a name, but I think you might need to pick one of the many suggestions of Mr. Nathan Barlow.

Matt Churnock said...

your puppy already has a name, that was part of the deal of me keeping it for 2 weeks and driving up to deliver the said animal. Her name is Barack (and her sister was Obama but has been changed to Mabry since there was no naming conditions on the other pup who stayed local). So call her what you want, but she will always be Barack to me.

Or you can name her Wringwor (since that is my word verification for this post).

katie said...

I think you should name her some sort of Jane Austin name.

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