Our little gravel road, especially the hill beyond the bridge, has grown treacherous in the dead of winter. Passing cars packed down several December snowfalls before the plows came through and created the first layer of ice. For a couple weeks, I stretched my shoe studs over my tennies and braved the bumpy, lumpy, but not too slippery mess.
But last weekend’s freezing rain coated the rough layer with a thin sheen of glare ice. Since my first resolution for 2009 is no broken bones (Sally Fields and I have the Boniva thing going), the shoe studs went back in the closet. I went back to laps around the basement, then up and down the stairs. And since my second resolution is no broken cars, I’ve avoided driving on the hill whenever possible. But today curiosity got the best of me. After running errands in town, I returned via the hill and stopped to photograph our road glacier. Then I steered the car s-l-o-w-l-y over the slick stuff.
It’s eighteen degrees here, even with the sun shining. The bare limbs of the trees by the bridge and along the hill block out sun on the few days it shines. Even thought the sun’s shining today, the temperature is only eighteen degrees. It’s going to be a long, long time before the road is safe again.
So I’m glum today, discouraged by the prospect of weeks and weeks of laps in the basement. I’m a little stir crazy, anticipating the darkness that will close in before supper’s on the table. I’m overwhelmed by the writing and book marketing to-do lists in front of me. I’m stymied by the family situations that pop up and keep me from my work.
I check my calendar. Ten weeks until spring. Will I make it?
