It's alternately sleeting and snowing again. We're on the line between weather patterns so we're getting a mix- a nasty, ugly mix- of winter precipitation. Housebound today, by choice. Might bake cookies. Might take a nap. Might finish reading my book, then take a nap. Nap sounds good.
I was up till almost daybreak, home while Hubby plowed the roads so that idiots with vain notions of invincibility in their overpriced, ego-stroking four-wheel-drive SUVs might actually continue harboring their delusions. I tend to enjoy seeing one of them fly past me, believing the speed limit +5 is a goal set in stone regardless of weather, then spot them farther down the road with wheels in a ditch, cursing into their cellphones because AAA won't be there for two hours. I only take pleasure in this if nobody's hurt, and I've been known to stop and check before laughing at them, so don't send me hate mail.
The other day I saw an SUV driver in a shopping center parking lot attempt to back around a corner into a freshly-vacated prime spot. She didn't see the stop sign- accelerated in reverse- just in time for her husband, exiting the store, to watch her back straight into it. I laughed. Being a female SUV driver probably had little to do with it, but the stereotype was there and it was funny.
Last night I went outside to see just how close I could slide to the corner store if I wore slick-soled boots and got a running start. No, it just felt that way. Stupid boots. Some guy was in his Bronco, snowplow on the front and ready to attack the residual elements, but he couldn't get it out of his lot. Tires just kept spinning the more he gunned it. I wondered if it was a bad sign that the plow guy couldn't get out, or, worse, if the plow guy was driving around with bald tires. He did, finally, get out after much slinging of ice and gravel. There really wasn't much on the ground but a thin sheet of ice so I have no idea what he thought he was going to plow. He didn't have an ice-melt spreader on the back either. Entirely useless battle between Goodyears and macadam, there. But at least he entertained me, however briefly.
DOT stealth mailbox plot revealed: It has come to my attention, from an unnamed source, that DOT plow drivers have modified their ritual downing of mailboxes to be less obvious. Instead of just burying a mailbox or knocking it over immediately to get it out of the way, as per the norm, drivers now work in teams. The first driver goes through, pushing the snow in front of the box, just enough to see the post wiggle. Joe Homeowner, watching from his living-room window, only sees that this obviously experienced driver did not blatantly mow down his mailbox, as in times past. Homeowner, pleased, retreats to his hot cider and newspaper. On each subsequent pass, the plow driver pushes the snow a little more; the post wiggles a little more. Homeowner goes to bed assured that he won't be buying yet another box, vowing to call and compliment DOT on their fine driver. Second shift comes in and plows the now-packed-and-stacked pile of snow into the base of the mailbox post, either sending it flying into the driveway or obliterating it under the chunks. Sometimes, for good measure, the driver will pile more snow on top so Homeowner won't know it's down until he comes out to dig the driveway out.
We don't have a home mailbox, but the post office driveway has been plowed in a few times. DOT hasn't figured out how to push snow directly into the lobby yet but I'm told they're working on it.
I should go bake cookies, make biscotti, eat something. Shovel today's snow off the walk. I really should. But my space heater is next to me, my feet are warm, and the nice glow from the monitor creates a comfortable ambiance. I'm in a good-vibe pod. Hate to break it up with reality, the reality that Christmas is NEXT FREAKING WEEK. Crap. I better get to baking! *pod=poof*
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