The Winter of My Discontent

This is the way my day started out Thursday.

 

I don't understand why they never put the newspaper
in the newspaper box that they installed.

That is the newspaper, a good 5 feet from the front walk, resting on top of 6 inches of snow.  I know, prissy first-world problem, getting snow inside your boots when fetching the newspaper.  Add to that the fact that I went without my morning cup of tea, due to a doctor’s appointment, and that the week had been a trying one.  I was in a class A cranky mood. 

At noon I had to drive an hour across town to go to a church meeting, which meant, of course, that it was snowing (for the 800^th time this winter).  After sloshing along for a while I got to the highway entrance, passing by a car that had smashed into the barrier. 

My directions said to get on Allegheny River Boulevard, a road I had never driven on.  There was now enough snow on the road that all-us who were foolish enough to be driving in it had to follow in the tracks of the car in front of us.  No lines were visible on the roadway.  I was in the right lane, but thought that it was going to be an exit-only lane soon, so I got in the middle lane.  There was one more lane to my left, and I thought, maybe that lane is in a better condition.  I decided to change lanes again, and then noticed that there was a car in that left lane, coming straight toward me.   Yikes!  I don’t know why I had assumed that the road was all one-way.  This near-error made me feel grateful and foolish all at the same time, and put me in me in an even lousier mood. 

Soon the road narrowed down to one lane.  The traffic stopped.  Why?  Because there was a big fat turkey crossing the road. I laughed out loud, thinking that here is God, telling me I am just as silly as a turkey. 

I got to the meeting, worshiped, listened, prayed, voted, but mostly just tried to stay awake.  After 3.5 hours of meeting, I had to leave to pick up Youngest Daughter at school, an hour’s drive away.  Just as I was getting lost on the drive back, YD texted me that the neighbor had showed up at school, and was taking her home.  Whew.

When I got home, I wearily opened the front door so I could start my next task: shoveling the front walk (for the 800^th time this winter).  That’s when I saw the next miracle. The walk had already been shoveled!  My own teenager had done it!  Without being asked!  That never happens around here.

 

An ordinary front walk, miraculously shoveled
by teenager

The next day, Valentine’s Day, YD asked me who my valentine was.  I said, “Dad, and you and your brother and sister, and all the people who drive the snowplows.”