Winter Has Arrived

It was inevitable. It was a few days early. Definitely, winter has arrived. The prediction for heavy snow yesterday was exactly that, a prediction. ¶ We all know that the weather prognosticators have been in error previously. Those of us who have been around for multiple circumnavigations of the sun are well acquainted with some of their miscalls. There have been many panic trips to the supermarket to purchase the necessary items for being snow bound. The purchases invariably include milk, bread, and toilet tissue. These items are purchased even by those who don’t eat bread or drink milk. They are just standard blizzard items.

¶ The prediction was for heavy snow on Friday. When I looked at the “CloseLine” on Thursday evening all the schools in the vicinity had been cancelled for Friday. Administrators, being aware of erring on the side of caution, had assumed the forecast would come to pass. It did. We received about ten inches of the white stuff. It snowed beautifully all day. Once in a while there was a breeze but nothing like a blizzard. The snow just fell, and fell, and fell. ¶ Being the first heavy snow of the season, and, in all likelihood, not the last, it is always a challenge being on the streets with others who have totally forgotten how to drive in such weather. I had to go for my final chemo infusion of the week. The cancer center is all downhill from my house. This is good because driving in the wet, heavy stuff was akin to driving in Crisco, or lard, or a similar substance. I made the journey to the Center with a minimum of white-knuckle experiences. ¶ Throughout the time at the Center the snow continued to fall. At the conclusion of the infusion and my expensive shot, it took many minutes to clear off the car. I always do a thorough job of that because I don’t want all that snow melting in the garage. I also do not want the snow from the hood blowing over the windshield. Nor do I wish the snow from the roof to blow over the car behind me. I wish more drivers would be so kind. ¶ Returning home was a different story. Since the Center is all downhill guess what the trip home is. That’s correct. It’s all uphill. The city varies in its haste to plow and deposit grit on the streets. They hadn’t been around any of the main thoroughfares on which I needed to travel. My current auto is not good in snow. My previous front wheel drive sedan was excellent. This one not so much. I’m smart enough to know not to try the hill which is my usual route. I made it to the cul de sac without incident where I promptly got stuck on the totally flat street! As I said it was like driving in lard. ¶ I finally made it into the garage. The secret solution was turning off the traction control thing. I remembered reading someplace that the traction control was not always helpful, particularly when neither wheel has any traction. Home safe and sound, finally!

¶ Today I went nowhere. I did rake the roof. It was a beautiful, sunny day and the snow sparkled in the sun. As long as I could stay home, it was lovely. ¶ The infusions during the non-snowy part of the week went well. The pharmacy was prompt. My doctor’s appointment was normal. I have a CT scan scheduled for the middle of January. ¶ A friend and I attended a the boys’ choir concert last week. The choir was very small. They sang well. The piano was too loud. Someone forgot to check out the acoustics before the performance. It would have been an easy thing to fix since the piano was electronic. ¶ When I was working with the boys’ choir it amazed me, as it did last week, that young people of that age can exhibit such discipline. Children can rise to the occasion. If you expect much from them they will produce. Yes, there are always exceptions. It was a source of amazement to me that some of the most disruptive boys could be the most disciplined during a performance. The choir brought back fond memories of the days of yore when we would be preparing for the Christmas Tea. ¶ Thanks for reading, for your thoughts and prayers, your messages, and all that you do for others.