By Margi Washburn
Hubby's mom seemed so sure that the road down to her house was fine. "You shouldn't have a problem," she said. "Everyone else is getting up and down just fine." I had serious doubts about our ability to do the same, and I voiced them to hubby for the tenth time.
"We don't have front-wheel drive in your car," I said. "Little Red would work fine, maybe, but my brakes are iffy. Real iffy." It freaked me out to drive my car under the best road conditions, but as you all know, the roads have been a trifle icy and snow-packed since the storm of the month. The road in front of mom's is one of the worst because it goes downhill, and should someone with iffy brakes attempt to visit her, and their brakes would fail, they would wind up in the creek. Well, I should amend that; right now there's a mini-mountain of snow jammed at the bottom of the hill from when the road was plowed.
Hubby assured me that we should try to visit his mom on the Monday evening after the storm. We had an hour, because she was getting ready to leave but she wanted her cookies. I had done her a favor the Saturday before by picking up a few pounds of cookies from the First Baptist Church cookie walk. This appears to be the church's last such venture, and mom has gone for years, but this time she was socked in with snow and couldn't make it.
I was getting nervous having that many delectable goodies in my house, so I reluctantly agreed we should go and drop them off. We decided to take the little car, and sometime around 5:30 we arrived. We didn't slide into the pile of snow, and the driveway was in pretty good shape.
We visited for a bit, and watched Wheel of Fortune. Mom was getting picked up around 7, so we put on our heavy coats, stuffed ourselves into the car and backed up. And there we sat.
One of my few faults is that I wait until my dashboard screams at me in red letters that the car is dangerously low on gas. I had ignored its warning for almost two whole days, which was supremely stupid, because now I couldn't keep my eyes off of the accusing message. I wanted to turn on the heat, but was afraid it would use more gas, so I shut it off. Besides, it was easier to hear hubby make many, many comments about being stuck at the bottom of the hill in the dark.
There we sat, spinning our tires, and filling the air with the smell of burning rubber. At about that time, mom's ride came down the hill in a car just like the one we'd left at home. It had no front-wheel drive and it was headed straight for us.
Hubby flashed his brights on and off at the driver. There was a hesitation, then the car came down the hill. I dialed my prayer partner, and I'm afraid I scared her by speaking gibberish for a few seconds.
When I could see that the car was going to miss us by a few feet, I asked my aunt to pray for us. She was laughing and so was I, until the driver in the big car got stuck. It was time to call hubby's brother and ask for help.
I could see mom silhouetted in the light from her garage as she watched the two cars spinning their tires. Hubby got out and met the other driver, who shared a bottle of sand with us. Eventually, the big car made it over halfway up the hill; he and mom walked up there, got inside, and drove away.
We spent a few more harrowing minutes stuck, then hubby whipped the car into a neighbor's driveway, backed into his mom's, and tore out of there so we could get up the hill. Now I had to call and cancel the help that was on the way.
It figured that my brother-in-law had already left, so we sat at the top of the hill and met him. We all had a good laugh, then went our separate ways. I was never so glad to get home in my life.
Here's the thing. Mom's is a favorite place for lots of folks to drop by for coffee, sweets and stimulating coversation. It's been that way for years, and once the ice melts off the road, she's going to get a lot of company. I guess it's a good thing hubby and I risked life and limb to deliver those wonderful cookies the other night. You know, just in case someone wanted to set aside a special treat for a certain couple, because I'm sure they'll be back.
Hubby's mom seemed so sure that the road down to her house was fine. "You shouldn't have a problem," she said. "Everyone else is getting up and down just fine." I had serious doubts about our ability to do the same, and I voiced them to hubby for the tenth time.
"We don't have front-wheel drive in your car," I said. "Little Red would work fine, maybe, but my brakes are iffy. Real iffy." It freaked me out to drive my car under the best road conditions, but as you all know, the roads have been a trifle icy and snow-packed since the storm of the month. The road in front of mom's is one of the worst because it goes downhill, and should someone with iffy brakes attempt to visit her, and their brakes would fail, they would wind up in the creek. Well, I should amend that; right now there's a mini-mountain of snow jammed at the bottom of the hill from when the road was plowed.
Hubby assured me that we should try to visit his mom on the Monday evening after the storm. We had an hour, because she was getting ready to leave but she wanted her cookies. I had done her a favor the Saturday before by picking up a few pounds of cookies from the First Baptist Church cookie walk. This appears to be the church's last such venture, and mom has gone for years, but this time she was socked in with snow and couldn't make it.
I was getting nervous having that many delectable goodies in my house, so I reluctantly agreed we should go and drop them off. We decided to take the little car, and sometime around 5:30 we arrived. We didn't slide into the pile of snow, and the driveway was in pretty good shape.
We visited for a bit, and watched Wheel of Fortune. Mom was getting picked up around 7, so we put on our heavy coats, stuffed ourselves into the car and backed up. And there we sat.
One of my few faults is that I wait until my dashboard screams at me in red letters that the car is dangerously low on gas. I had ignored its warning for almost two whole days, which was supremely stupid, because now I couldn't keep my eyes off of the accusing message. I wanted to turn on the heat, but was afraid it would use more gas, so I shut it off. Besides, it was easier to hear hubby make many, many comments about being stuck at the bottom of the hill in the dark.
There we sat, spinning our tires, and filling the air with the smell of burning rubber. At about that time, mom's ride came down the hill in a car just like the one we'd left at home. It had no front-wheel drive and it was headed straight for us.
Hubby flashed his brights on and off at the driver. There was a hesitation, then the car came down the hill. I dialed my prayer partner, and I'm afraid I scared her by speaking gibberish for a few seconds.
When I could see that the car was going to miss us by a few feet, I asked my aunt to pray for us. She was laughing and so was I, until the driver in the big car got stuck. It was time to call hubby's brother and ask for help.
I could see mom silhouetted in the light from her garage as she watched the two cars spinning their tires. Hubby got out and met the other driver, who shared a bottle of sand with us. Eventually, the big car made it over halfway up the hill; he and mom walked up there, got inside, and drove away.
We spent a few more harrowing minutes stuck, then hubby whipped the car into a neighbor's driveway, backed into his mom's, and tore out of there so we could get up the hill. Now I had to call and cancel the help that was on the way.
It figured that my brother-in-law had already left, so we sat at the top of the hill and met him. We all had a good laugh, then went our separate ways. I was never so glad to get home in my life.
Here's the thing. Mom's is a favorite place for lots of folks to drop by for coffee, sweets and stimulating coversation. It's been that way for years, and once the ice melts off the road, she's going to get a lot of company. I guess it's a good thing hubby and I risked life and limb to deliver those wonderful cookies the other night. You know, just in case someone wanted to set aside a special treat for a certain couple, because I'm sure they'll be back.
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