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Baby It's Cold Outside... No Seriously... It's F***ing Freezing

The first snow of the season is magical. I think we can all agree on that. The fresh, crisp smell. The nip in the air. The soft crunching under your boots. The hope that THIS year it will be different. This year, you will embrace your hearty Canadian roots and become one with the cold weather. Seasonal affective disorder? Never heard of her. Shovelling to the point of complete exhaustion and a torn hammy? Not this time. Huge electric and gas bills trying to keep your ass from freezing? Nope, that's what they made sweaters and wood-stoves for.


Then the second snowfall of the season arrives, and you remember that a blizzard is the best way to ruin a perfectly good day. You also remember that you don't have a shovel anymore, because last year you snapped it in half like a damn twig during the last snowfall of the year and didn't replace it.

Resolving that if you did get snowed in and died before spring, watching a marathon of Big Bang Theory while drinking hot chocolate and eating the last of the Oreos, you'd die happier than from a having heart attack shovelling. Apparently yesterday's lazy, does not in fact cure today's crazy.


Scott and I moved to Bruce County in the winter of 2018. We had been told by neighbours and friends, that in the six years since we moved here we had never seen a true Bruce County winter. We'd nod enthusiastically and say something like, "Oh I bet" and "If this is an easy winter, I'd hate to see bad one".... hardy-har-har. All the while thinking that hearing this from the locals was the equivalent of parents and grandparents telling us that "Back in my day we'd walk in knee deep water to school, up hill... both ways!"


Ya, okay.

Aside from a three day snowmageddon over Christmas two years ago (where Scott and our fur babies literally escaped the house with their lives Christmas Eve after a piece of corn husk from a nearby field wrapped around our chimney in the middle of the night and caused the house to fill with billowy black smoke), winters have been fairly tame and we thought we had seen the worst of what the season could bring to our doorstep.


As with so many things... we were WRONG.


This year has been a test of not only our shovelling skills, but of our relationship, and its only January. See, the thing Scott doesn't seem to understand is that I am a strong and independent woman, capable of anything I put my mind to. If you tell me that I am going to regret something in the morning, I sleep until noon because I am a problem solver. I never make the same mistake twice... I make it five or six times just to be sure. So if you tell me not to do something, I think we all know how that will turn out.


It all started when we woke up to 100km/hr winds and a fresh blanket of light snow being whipped around in the air. The snow tornados would have been pretty, if they weren't so terrifying. We live on a country road, surrounded by fields. Which can make visibility in the winter a bit tricky. It also leads to ENORMOUS drifts on the roads and in our driveway


I was making Scott breakfast, while he took Indi for a walk. Indi, our 12 year old husky, has been living her best life this winter. Sitting on the porch with our barn kittens and her bone. Nose to the air refusing to come inside until, after tense negotiations, we reach a trade agreement. Usually in the form of steak or beef liver treats.


When Scott came in, again leaving Indi outside because she formally protested and laid down on the walkway refusing to come in, he told me that I was not leave the house.


Scott: You are staying home today, no going out.


Me: Um, excuse me? Why can you drive to work in this, and I can't go get groceries.


Scott: Blah, blah, bleeee, blah, blah, blaaa, bleeee.


I may have missed that last part, as I was deep in thought, making a plan of where I absolutely needed to go. I'm not stubborn or defiant, I'm (say it with me now) inn-dee-pen-dent. And I'm a great(ish) driver. I can handle myself.


Scott: Don't try to blow the driveway either. We all know what happened last week and we don't need a repeat. I'll plow the driveway when I get home.

Now these were fighting words. The previous week Scott has asked me to back down the driveway, keeping it between the driveway markers, and blow a path with the old tractor down to the road. Have I ever used the PTO on a tractor before to blow snow? No. Am I ever trusted to back up any vehicle at all without assistance? No. Does Scott, in fact, turn my car around and park it facing down the driveway for me at the end of every night so that there are no mishaps in the morning? Yes, yes he does.


Putting all that aside, did I put on my big girl panties, and try to do what he asked of me anyways? Yes, I did. I unplugged the tractor, got the PTO thumping and chugged backwards down my driveway covered in two feet of snow. Now I will concede that it is a little suspect that my degree educated ass didn't realize that I wasn't blowing any snow until I was halfway down to the road and had pushed a ginormous snow bank into the middle of the driveway. Then the tractor kind of gave up and started sputtering. I decided to abandon the plan of me blowing the driveway, for a more realistic plan of clearing the snow bank I just made using a shovel. I was on my way back to the garage when things went sideways.... literally. The wind whipped my scarf into my face.... and by the time I remembered that taking my foot off the gas does not stop the tractor (how dumb is that?) it was too late.

As you can see from the picture, because of circumstances completely beyond my control, I swamped the tractor off the side of the driveway. You live and learn.....



So after a good stare down, I promised Scott I would not attempt to blow the driveway out again (I never said anything about leaving or not leaving the house), and he went off to work. I puttered around the house until about noon doing all the things I hadn't gotten to yesterday, or in several weeks. You know- vacuuming, mopping, cleaning bathrooms, doing laundry- the basics. But by 12:30 I was bored. And hungry for some take out. The blowing snow had subsided and the driveway, from my vantage point on the deck, looked very manageable. I reasoned that the strong 100km/h winds that morning had likely blown most of the snow off the driveway. And I decided that slipping into town five minutes away for a few things wouldn't do any harm.


I warmed up the car, and loaded Indi into the backseat. She loves a good car ride, and I always love the company. I pulled to the top of the driveway and put my all wheel drive RAV into snow mode.... I like to think that makes spikes come out of my tires for grip. Zoom, zoom. Scott's says that's ridiculous, but why else would it be called snow mode?


I told Indi to brace herself and hold on, and pinned it down the driveway. At first it went super well. Smooth. The first 3/4 of the driveway were a piece of cake. My snow spikes made it easy to glide down the driveway. Then things got tricky. I heard an ooomph as Indi bailed on standing and layed down in her backseat hammock. The car started pulling from left to right, and slowing down.... regardless of how hard I stomped on the gas. We inched forward, and I thought we were just about to make it when the car came to a halt, five feet from the end of the driveway. I looked at Indi in the rear view mirror, her head crooked to the side- judging me harshly - and said the only thing I could think at that moment, "Well shit."

After a few attempts of switching from drive to reverse (really ensuring I got the car good and stuck) Indi and I disembarked from the RAV and weighed our options. One- we could attempt to get the tractor and pull ourselves out. Two, we could grab a shovel and start digging. Three- we call Scott and beg for help. We chose option number two and grabbed my emergency shovel out of the back of the car. I was a dozen scoops in to clearing around one tires when I realized Indi was not helping at all. She digs my gardens up all summer, even dug herself a snow den that morning off the porch.... but at this moment she was lying in the snow, paws crossed like lady, watching me dig.


"A little help?" I asked her, and gestured towards the tire I was digging out. In response Indi got up, lazily stretched and started strutting towards the house. Apparently she had enough of my shit for one day and bailed on me. Rude, right?


I dug out what I could, until it was obvious that amount of shovelling was going to fix this. And, that Scott *gulp* may have been right. But I am nothing if not accountable. I grabbed my phone and sent him a short succinct message


Kay: So I have a bit of a situation. But everything is fine and it's nothing that I can't fix. I needed something desperately from town. So I went to leave and made it all the way to the end of the driveway, and then I accidentally got stuck.


Three dots immediately started dancing at the bottom of our conversation as I waited for his response.


Scott: So like when I said don't leave the house? LOL


Kay: I don't actually remember you using those exact words in that particular order. But yes, that probably would have been smart.


I waited for his response, knowing that however mad he was, I kinda deserved it. I was vowing to myself to help as much as I could with getting it unstuck, when my phone chimed again.


Scott: It's alright babe. Make sure the tractor is plugged in and leave it for me. I'll get it out when I get home. Go get warm ;-)



And that is why we love Scott. And also why I made a ginormous batch of chocolate chip cookies as a peace offering. It's a damn good thing I can bake.



Hugs,

Kay

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