Sunday, March 24, 2013

The $8.00 Daughter Rides Again

Because I listen to the chief meteorologists, I figured I had plenty of time to fritter away this morning before going to town for my 44 oz. Diet Coke. But just to be on the safe side, I planned to go around 8:00. After all, the gist of my weather-watching experience was that down here, we wouldn't get much of anything until at least 1:00, and maybe after 4:00. My mom, a more cautious woman, decided to stay home from church, just in case.

Not-heaven's bells! The minute I went up the driveway, sleet started sluicing down. I figured that since T-Hoe's mirror-thermometer said it was 34 degrees, I could make it to Mom's and back to deliver her some beans and ham and corn muffins and fortune cookies. She worries about being snowed in, and hadn't made a trip for bread and milk.

By the time I hit the county road, all had turned to rain. The roads were clear as a successfully-intervened addict's eyes. I decided to run in Save A Lot for some non-stick cooking spray. I also threw in two onions for Mom, in case she was out, and some hickory barbecue sauce for me, because I like it and I always forget that I need some in the pantry. When I came out of the store five minutes later, sleet was again sluicing. I got to the dead-mouse-smelling post office, and the temp dropped to 33, 32, 31. It was almost as fast as in The Day After Tomorrow. I passed the lake and started down the several-mile hill of Old Hillmomba Road. Sleet was starting to build up on T-Hoe's windshield and hood. In the next town, the grass was already white. I called Mom so she wouldn't worry. "I'm about five minutes away. I'm almost to your church. The temperature has just dropped, so I think I have some time." I didn't think so at all. But I didn't want to disappoint Mom. I was determined to be the eight-dollar daughter today.

Mom told me not to come, but I reminded her that I was almost there. Oh. She forgot that part. So on I went. The road became covered. T-Hoe never put a four-wheel-drive tire wrong. I chugged up Mom's hill. Turned into her downward-facing driveway. There she was, in the front yard with a red-yellow-blue paneled umbrella. It was almost as eerie as those white-gowned mental patients milling aimlessly about the grounds in the nighttime rain in the original Halloween. I handed her the bag of goodies through the window, and watched to make sure she didn't slip on her porch. Once she was safely inside, I hit the road. It was even worse. I did, however, take time out to grab a sausage biscuit and hash brown for each of my men before hitting the sleet-covered Old Hillmomba Road.

Don't go thinking that in my haste to get safely home, I forsook my 44 oz. Diet Coke. Not-heaven no! The minute I entered the house, Farmer H declared that he was going out to cat around at the flea markets. After eating a sausage biscuit and hash brown, of course.

From there, the day went downhill. Snow sifted down like powdered sugar on a grassy muddy cake. But somebody must have licked that cake, because by 2:00, all the snow had dissolved. Some more built up a bit on grass later in the afternoon, but not on the mud or brick sidewalk.

How dare I wish for a snow day when we are facing two four-day weeks.


Chickadee said...

I didn't take the forecast seriously. How many times have we been promised a ton of snow only to see it veer off south or north at the last minute?

It started that snow/sleet combo around 8am or so. I just stepped outside and stuck a ruler in the ground and there is 7.5" of snow. Not sure that's the way the meteorologists do it, but there you go.

Sioux said...

We got dumped on, to begin our spring break.

The gods are especially cruel...

Hillbilly Mom said...

We had three inches by midmorning on the wooden steps to Poolio. Then it shrank away to nothing as the day went by.

So sad, a snow day wasted on spring break. Alas, our spring break consists of a Friday and a Monday. IF a snow day doesn't take one away.