If I'm looking to blame someone - and I am - it's really the meteorologists' fault. The OKC weathermen get so worked up about every gust of wind, drop of drizzle, mesocyclone, hook echo, wall cloud, flake of snow or hint of sleet, I never know if the weather really is going to get nasty or if they're just getting all worked up for nothing. I swear when a "ominous looking cloud" stops rotating and dissipates, the disappointment in their voices is palpable. The same can be said for the "late breaking" and "eye witness" news reporters who stand along the roadside and exclaim how treacherous the roads are, nearly impassable, really, as motorists in the background zip by at 65+ miles an hour.
So you can understand why, when everyone was allowed to leave work at 3 p.m. because of the roads (which they never do, by the way), I was in no hurry. I was sure the road were fine, and I had enough work to keep me busy until 10 p.m. I finally made it out around 4:00.
And as expected, the turnpike and interstate were slick, but easily passable at about 45 mph. It was a nice drive home, actually. And it turned out that Chris was only about a mile in front of me on his way home with Hudson.
That all changed when we exited I-35 and started heading back toward our addition. The roads were getting slicker but were still okay, that is until we entered our addition. We pass a few ponds on the way to our house, and both are located at the bottom of hills (which I guess makes sense). The problem is that with icy roads you have to go slow down the hill for fear of skidding off into the pond, yet pick up enough momentum to make it back up the hill or risk sliding back into the pond.
I did good going down, not so good coming back up. I lost my momentum right before the top of the hill and started sliding backwards. I really panicked. There was no stopping my car for about five or six seconds...I was tapping on the breaks, turning my wheels, nothing worked. Finally, I came to rest on the hill about six inches from a neighbor's brick mailbox. A few more tries up the hill and I was about two inches from it. I finally called Chris, who after spinning in a complete circle in front of our driveway, made it home safe and sound.
It was clear that Chris couldn't get another vehicle out on the streets, so his only option was his tractor, which meant leaving Hudson in the house in his crib, which he did. So, while Hudson was napping, mommy and daddy were about a quarter mile away trying to un-stuck mommy's car. Which didn't work. It was just too slick.
So, we headed home, my beloved Highlander parked on the side of the street (I hope I hope I hope no one hits it. I really love that car.). Should you have happened to be a neighbor looking out your window tonight, you would have seen Chris driving his tractor back home with me, sitting on his lap in my heels, hose, skirt, dress coat, the whole shebang, hanging on to my purse and him for dear life. If we weren't in such a hurry to get back to the baby it would have been a hilarious situation. As we rounded the corner to our street even the tractor started sliding, so I bailed and decided to walk the rest of the way, thinking that at least one of us had to live to raise our son.
I still had to laugh a bit on our way home. I never dreamed my Knight in Shining Armor would be wearing worn jeans and an old hoodie and rescue me on his rusted old 1953 tractor, but he saved me all the same. And that's more than I can say for Gary England.
So you can understand why, when everyone was allowed to leave work at 3 p.m. because of the roads (which they never do, by the way), I was in no hurry. I was sure the road were fine, and I had enough work to keep me busy until 10 p.m. I finally made it out around 4:00.
And as expected, the turnpike and interstate were slick, but easily passable at about 45 mph. It was a nice drive home, actually. And it turned out that Chris was only about a mile in front of me on his way home with Hudson.
That all changed when we exited I-35 and started heading back toward our addition. The roads were getting slicker but were still okay, that is until we entered our addition. We pass a few ponds on the way to our house, and both are located at the bottom of hills (which I guess makes sense). The problem is that with icy roads you have to go slow down the hill for fear of skidding off into the pond, yet pick up enough momentum to make it back up the hill or risk sliding back into the pond.
I did good going down, not so good coming back up. I lost my momentum right before the top of the hill and started sliding backwards. I really panicked. There was no stopping my car for about five or six seconds...I was tapping on the breaks, turning my wheels, nothing worked. Finally, I came to rest on the hill about six inches from a neighbor's brick mailbox. A few more tries up the hill and I was about two inches from it. I finally called Chris, who after spinning in a complete circle in front of our driveway, made it home safe and sound.
It was clear that Chris couldn't get another vehicle out on the streets, so his only option was his tractor, which meant leaving Hudson in the house in his crib, which he did. So, while Hudson was napping, mommy and daddy were about a quarter mile away trying to un-stuck mommy's car. Which didn't work. It was just too slick.
So, we headed home, my beloved Highlander parked on the side of the street (I hope I hope I hope no one hits it. I really love that car.). Should you have happened to be a neighbor looking out your window tonight, you would have seen Chris driving his tractor back home with me, sitting on his lap in my heels, hose, skirt, dress coat, the whole shebang, hanging on to my purse and him for dear life. If we weren't in such a hurry to get back to the baby it would have been a hilarious situation. As we rounded the corner to our street even the tractor started sliding, so I bailed and decided to walk the rest of the way, thinking that at least one of us had to live to raise our son.
I still had to laugh a bit on our way home. I never dreamed my Knight in Shining Armor would be wearing worn jeans and an old hoodie and rescue me on his rusted old 1953 tractor, but he saved me all the same. And that's more than I can say for Gary England.
2 comments:
Oh my goodness! Do you think any of your neighbors got a picture of you all dressed up on the tractor? I would pay to see that. I know it wasn't funny then but it's pretty funny now!
Oh man, I'm so glad you guys didn't fall into the pond! That was always one of my fears at Express. I always felt like when it was icy I was going to skate off into the pond, sink and then either freeze to death or drown. Quite morbid of me, wasn't it?
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