Winter's Here

As the title implies, winter is here and I’m not very happy about it.  It’s not winter’s fault; winter comes every year and we should know what to expect.  But somehow we forgot.

Elaine and I live a little over fifteen miles from the closest gas, milk. potato chips, semi-decent restaurant food and beer, should I drink beer. 

We pass this little oasis on the way home.  The prices are high, the expiration dates need to be checked but it can be quite helpful on the trip home.

Elaine and I share a car.  My construction career almost always provided me with transportation, so the need for having two vehicles was unnecessary.  Now retired, I mostly drive Elaine’s car when I need to go.  Elaine works from home and seldom needs a car.  Oh, I have a twenty-five-year old pick-up turned flatbed with special license plates that I drive when I need to.  Elaine goes to town every Thursday to meet with a group of knitters and gabbers. They discuss patterns, eat cookies, knit and then they go home.

Elaine needs the car one day a week. It works well until Elaine passes the gas station without buying gas.  She usually tells me to be prepared to stop for gas, except for when she forgets to tell me to stop for gas.

This past week with snow in the forecast, I needed to move the car from it’s parking space to complete some ranch work, actually chicken coop work.  Moving the car I noticed the gas gauge was on empty, the empty tank light was on.

Elaine and I are of an age when an emergency trip (although not likely) to the hospital could happen.  It’s always good to have gas in the car.

There might have been some semi-ugly words about gasoline when the snow started. I decided to drive the fifteen miles back to buy at least some gas.  I suggested Elaine go with me and we could get some semi-decent food at the restaurant.  Elaine declined.

I could have waited until the next day, but you never know when you are going to fall down the stairs or maybe be attacked by mountain lions.  I left to buy gas.  It was snowing slightly.

The closer I got to the gas station, the harder it snowed.  I filled my tank and headed home.  Did I mention it was snowing harder? Visibility was becoming a problem.  I was lucky enough to follow the lights of a truck hauling hay.  I felt comfortable even though we were driving between five and ten miles per hour.

To get to our house one must climb Calloway Hill.  A hill with switchbacks and a 600-foot rise in elevation.  I followed the hay truck up Calloway.  Near the top of Calloway, the truck’s lights disappeared.  I’m mean one second on, the next second gone.  It was me, the snow and the dark, alone. 

Seven more miles, I have no idea where the road is.  I’m sure I was in the ditch, twice.  I made it home basically without incident.  I don’t know what happened to the hay truck.

The fifteen-mile trip (X2) took over ninety minutes.  Arriving at home Elaine said,

Elaine: I was getting worried.

Me: You were worried

Elaine: I was going to take the pickup go find you

Me; That would not have been a good idea

Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz said it best. “There is no place like home.”

God Bless, Love ya, fill your tank.

Our crazy lives!

Monner