"We
can't drive in that!"
The moving
truck was scheduled to come. The night
before it snowed a mere two to three inches.
Doug and I both grew up in the south.
I reiterated, "We can not drive in that!"
With other
ideas Doug loaded the truck with our suitcases, paranoid cat, and me. For the record, he refused to carry me to the
truck. So I pelted him with snow
balls. That'll teach him.
Eight miles
later with my fingernail marks embedded in his skin, Doug pulled safely into
our snow covered driveway. I guess a
good ole southern boy can learn new tricks.
I was
presented with two options. Did I want
to drive and go meet the moving truck or shovel the driveway? Of course, shovel the driveway. I'm never driving in that white fluff.
Shoveling
wasn't so bad until I realized our driveway was 2.7 miles long. But I needn't have worried. Doug and the moving truck arrived in
thirty-three minutes and the moving truck promptly slid off the road towards
the ditch.
Low and
behold a smaller moving truck appeared behind the stuck big one. I guess they are used to this kind of weather
and prepare for slides and getting stuck.
Wouldn't you think they would just say "Screw It," and stay home with a hot toddy waiting for
better weather. That's what I plan to
do!
Then
the news came that filled my heart with joy.
We provided entertainment for our new neighbors. One such neighbor stopped at the truck saying
everyone was saying "Go look at the new neighbors. Their moving truck is in the ditch!" Ahh to be the center of attention.After losing all feeling in my toes from standing outside checking off inventory numbers, the tow truck arrived and pulled the truck from the ditch. It was time to go inside, unpack, find a blanket, and crawl under. The scardy cat had the same idea.
The journey has ended and the living begins on the gravel
road.