But Mother Nature had other ideas this week. She's clearly not crazy about the notion that we're starting off Thanksgiving week by eating dinner in shifts (in spite of Spaghetti Wednesday). So she set about to fix things. The first thing she did was start dropping fat snowflakes on us. Pretty, but at just above freezing, roads were clear, and the cedars just very pretty. But when we didn't listen, she played mean, plummeting temperatures to negative degrees Celsius, right about the time Little One was sight-reading a new piece. We emerged from lessons and tried to limp home.
Three hills later, after a few skids (downhill) and fishtails (uphill), I pulled the Mom-mobile into a parking lot and announced to Little One that we were walking. We were about two miles away from home and had warm jackets, and I knew he could do it, since he done a much longer trek when he was just five.We strapped the instruments to our backs and headed home.
As we walked, we watched cars slip and slide. A call to Darling Husband awakened him to the fact that what he thought was bare pavement was in fact a sheet of ice;after hoofing it home himself, he called back later to tell me the play he and Little One had tickets to was canceled. A call to Number One Son revealed that he had made it home safely, and that orchestra rehearsal was canceled. The sweet young man walked up the hill to meet us with home-made hand warmers. Not long after, we all made it home to our snug, warm house, and had supper--together.
Friends posting on Facebook reveal a similar story: "husband and kids still not home after 3 hours on the highway," "felt guilty I couldn't get my kids from aftercare, so they went home with friends," and my personal favorite: "power out, kids in bed early, nothing to do." Mother nature chortles: the problem isn't that Seattllites don't know how to drive in snow, or that the city doesn't have enough snowplows/sanders. No, the problem is that our lives are built around traveling around too much, keeping us so busy that the simple act of getting together for dinner becomes a logistical nightmare. Guilty as charged.
The boys' schools are off today, the office up the road is closed, and even the budding firefighters called it off tonight. We shall eat together again this evening, but I'm not even going to attempt to rescue my car until Wednesday, when the thaw begins. I'm thinking of dishing out a hearty risotto and sausage and maybe a board game in front of the fireplace. And eggnog cocoa. Thanks, Mom!
