Finally, Snow!

I peered outside in the dark trying in vain to see how many white molecules

 were falling to the ground.  It was snowing! 

I awoke early the next morning to snow!  Lots and lots of snow!  Excited as a four year old, I gobbled down my breakfast and began to dress.  Long underwear, t-shirt, sweatshirt, heavy blue jeans, thick wool socks, down parka, snow pants, knee high snow boots, warm gloves, hat and ear muffs.  I was ready! 

Pushing my way out the door, (who knew snow was so heavy) I looked for the best spot to make a snow man. Oh yeah, out front where everyone could see.  Once the snow plow came by!  I picked up a glove full of snow and it sprinkled to the ground.  It would not ball up.  It was a light and fluffy snow not a wet and "let's make a snowball snow."  It was worthless snow!

Royally disappointed I couldn't play in this, I realized I had grown up issues to face.  I was snowed in.  Since Doug was gone it was up to me to plow the driveway.  I could do that.  "I am Woman, Hear me Roar!"

Doug had so thoughtfully bought me an apple red sport utility vehicle, named James, with a snow plow attached.  It was in the shed in the back forty.  The snow had drifted so I trudged through ankle deep snow and knee deep snow, but made it without going under completely.  I fired up James, put the blade down and began to drive.  I drove an entire 31 feet before the snow became so heavy James stopped, smelled funny, and excreted a bit of smoke.  Oh no! 

Hopping off, retracing my steps, literally, I stumbled inside to phone my 95 year old uncle for instructions on how to plow snow.  After hearing everything, and yes everything, I did wrong, I hobbled back out to James.

By this time the 14 degree weather was beginning to seep into my bones.  But "I am Woman!"  I adjusted the blade to a tilt, put him in 4-wheel drive, and went off in a different direction from the first time.  Down the hill, across the place where green grass was yesterday, and to the end of the driveway.  I did it.  I turned around to admire my handy work.  I had barely touched any of the snow with the blade!

Suddenly a large shadow loomed over me.  I turned to see this 20 foot tall John Deere tractor with a front loader stop by my driveway.  A large figure climbed down and a deep voice said, "Want me to scoop your driveway?" 

Troy, my three mile away neighbor, had come to release me.  "I am Woman, Watch me Move Out of the Way!"

No Tomato Juice!

I spied something silver sitting three feet from the hen house as we pulled out of the driveway.  "What is that thing beside the hen house?" I inquired of Doug.

"Well since it seems we (meaning him) are not allowed to shoot anything around here (meaning I won't let him.)  I bought a live trap and we are going to trap that varmint."

I'm not sure what this we thing is.  But something is living under the hen house.  Doug is convinced it will ruin the foundation and it will come crashing to the ground.  Never mind it's probably over seventy years old.  We don't know what is under there.  I saw a skunk, Stripes, a couple of times.   Haven't seen or smelled him lately.  It was late fall and cold, so I was pretty sure Frederica, the groundhog, was hibernating.  The holes were too big for Speedy.  We had seen an opossum a time or two.  It was probably him.  My dad traps opossums all the time.  It would be no problem.  And yes I do name all the wild life!

We pulled back into the driveway about nine o'clock.  Our tummies were full of turkey and potatoes and desserts.   I strolled into the house thinking of a warm bath and pajamas.  That's when Doug blew in the door and loudly announced, "I got it.  You have to come help me."

Great.  "Can't the opossum wait until morning?" I yawned.

Doug puffed up like a peacock.  "I caught a skunk!"

"Stripes!  You caught Stripes?  I don't have any tomato juice!"

"Why do you need tomato juice? Didn't you have enough to eat?"

"No Ding-dong!  This is for when you get sprayed letting him go."

Still puffed up he announced he had a plan.  And I  had to help.  Great.

Off went my nice dinner clothes and on went the long underwear, the sweatshirt, a old holey jacket, just in case I needed to throw it away.  I trudged outside ten minutes later.

Our first mission was to hook up the trailer to the truck and dump off the half ton of old tires on it.  We didn't make it to the dump fast enough, I deducted.  After every muscle in my body was screaming, we positioned the trailer by the trap.

My weapon was the Q-beam.  I was to shine the light in the skunk's eyes.  Doug informed me they wouldn't spray what they couldn't see.   And they can only spray fifteen feet.  So sixteen feet away I blinded poor Stripes.  Doug cautiously approached from the rear.  (I was mentally calculating how  long he would have to stand outside in the cold while I drove into town for tomato juice.)  Slowly he slid the cage into a box and lifted it into the trailer.  Wow!  He didn't get sprayed!  Now how do you plan on getting it out?  And Where is Stripes going to go live?

Once again, he had a plan.  We drove one mile across the river and up the hill.  Doug went back to the box while I stood sixteen feet away.  I was farther from town and tomato juice now, but he could walk home.  Carefully he lifted the box and cage.  Slowly he walked over to the ditch.  Quick as lightening he threw the whole mess in the ditch and darted my direction.  The cage popped open and out streaked Stripes. 

"He's out!  He's out!" I yelled.  Stripes ran zigzag like a drunk down the hill.  "Look at that!  He's headed home!"

Doug mumbled some choice words.  Then Stripes made a bee line for the woods on the side of the road. 

"It's not even 10:30.  We dumped tires, moved the cage, drove to sand hill, and relocated the skunk.  Good job if I say so myself."  He was still puffed.

The next morning Doug filled in the holes under the hen house and started packing.  He had a airplane to catch the next day.  As night came, Doug took his stroll around the property,  saying good-bye to the lawn mower and such.  He came back in carrying the trap.

"What's with that?"  I asked.  Big mistake.

"There are holes dug under the hen house again.  This is for you to use while I'm gone."

All I have to say is "Dreaming is Free."