My adventures in the new year....

  We are now on our second cold snap of the year. It is still January. I am not sure I have gotten over the first one. Two days of sub zero temperatures direct from Antarctica, blowing winds from the Arctic and snow (cause the first two were not enough) kept us indoors. Cautiously we crept out on the third day. Mostly because school reopened, but also because cabin fever was setting in. The shoveling and breaking up of ice began. I could stop running the space heater 24/7 to keep the utility room warm enough so the pipes would not freeze. I could close the cabinet doors in the kitchen. I could go outside.
   Outside I found that I had traded my indoor tools for a new set of tools; the shovel and ice pick. I cleared up the ice rink that we were using as our driveway. I cleared the sidewalk and sewer on the corner for the bus stop so we would have somewhere to stand. I dug out the fire hydrate on the corner of our property so in the event that my house catches fire no one need waste precious moments trying to locate it. I dug a path to to the back of our house where the utility meters reside so that we would have actual readings instead of estimated ones. I like to do a thorough job.
    And after these forays into the outside world, I retreated back into our house to clean up the mess that we had made from two days of forced indoor vacation. Because really, with a couple of kids running around and getting hungry every few hours, not much gets accomplished.
    Perhaps the worst part about the last cold snap was about five days later, when the temperature rose to a balmy 45° F. And it started to rain. Then pour.  I was thinking of Googling the specifications for building an Ark, when what did I see outside my office window? No, not an Ark. A snowplow. Plowing all the slush and remaining snow and whatever other crap he could find right over my well tended and clear sewer! Then that jerk had the nerve to turn around and drive off, no longer plowing, but just driving with the plow in the up position. As he drove off (I swear, I heard demonic cackling), I watched in horror as the street quickly began to fill with water and transform itself into a small lake.
   Quickly I sprang into action, grabbing my coat, my rubber boots, an umbrella and a shovel. I plashed though the driving rain with my bright red golf umbrella held aloft and my trusty shovel tucked under my arm. Alarmed, I found that the waters already covered the tops of my toes. I smashed the umbrella handle into the snow embankment as best I could and then frantically began digging and swearing. Drivers passed me with odd looks on their faces. Neighbors peered around curtains. The wind gusted and blew the umbrella over after which no amount of force could make it stay entrenched in the snow again. I was doomed to get wet, but I was determined. I was not going to have a flood in January with freezing temps about to return the next day. Floods in the spring I have managed, but floods in the winter were unimaginable monsters that loomed on the other side of the closet door. I prefer my monsters to keep themselves in the closet.
   I managed to shovel down through two feet of the piled up slushy snow when my daughter's school bus arrived. The bus driver told me there was flooding everywhere he had been. I grinned. "Not on my watch!" I announced. "And not on my corner!" He smiled back at me the way you smile at some people, hoping they don't become any more unstable than they already are. I went back to my shoveling with my daughter holding the umbrella somewhat over me.  Probably not much point as my coat was pretty well soaked, but it was the principal of the matter. After about 15 minutes of chopping the icy mess and hearty shoveling I broke through! I had hit pay sewer! Water began to trickle, then flow as I broke more and more of the slushy ice and snow away.  I sent my daughter home to put together an afternoon snack for us and I finished clearing away the rest of the blocking snow and ice. As I walked back across the street to my house, the water was rapidly receding and the street was visible once more.
   The next day it snowed. And got cold. Not arctic cold, just single digit cold. No minus signs involved. Regular winter cold. And I was pleased that our corner was not a huge ice patch that would require emergency vehicles to clean up large piles of car debris from the drivers who think that our residential street has a speed limit of 45.
   Slowly we returned back to our "normal" winter routine. Well, mostly.
   Till now.
   Two days of no school and brutal subzero temperatures that make the Arctic look inviting. Seems like we have been through this before. Except this time my husband and I managed to break up the snow and ice on our driveway before the freeze set in. And we had clear skies with no snow being brought in by the high winds that accompanied the freezing temperatures. On a whim, I did a Google search to see if there was anywhere colder than here. I found that Sibera had a chilly temperature of -65° F.
I felt so much warmer. School promises to be open again tomorrow and the temperature could rise all the way to 20° F. A regular heat wave!
   I tense. I have not been out to shovel the sewer out on the corner. Is there rain in the forecast? Even though it has been clear all day, I swear I hear the sound of a snowplow. I see myself slipping back into the time stream, clearing the sidewalk on the bus corner from the drifted snow. Making sure the sewer drain is free from ice. Then quietly sitting on the rocker on my front porch, bundled up in my coat and snow pants, mittens, scarves and hats. Rocking slowly back and forth, my trusty Red Rider BB gun across my lap, watching for the snowplow....

Until I slip between the minutes again.