Saturday, January 25, 2014

Sugar Snow

It is snowing today.
I realize being late January in Ohio, this is nothing new. Yet, there is something special about today’s snowfall.
For one, today is Saturday. There is absolutely no compelling reason to pile on layers of clothing only to venture forth into the Arctic wilderness of the drive to exhume the Jeep from its icy tomb.
Today, there is no need to fend off polar bears and wolves while vainly chipping at the ice on the windows. The melancholy tune of the heater fan and rumble of the exhaust will not be playing this morning.
Not today.
Upon gazing from our bedroom window this morning, I thought; “This is a perfect day to stay indoors and write.” And so I am.
This snow is not a Hallmark Channel Holiday movie light, fluffy, perfect snow.
No, this is what I refer to as “Sugar Snow”. It consists of a curtain of itsy-bitsy, teensy-weensy, tiny grains of snow which resemble granules of sugar. The primary problem with this type of snow is the tendency to go on and on, as well as pile up and up.
No, this is not Romantic Snow; soft white flakes alighting gently upon cheeks and eyelashes, sparkling like diamonds in my Lovely Bride’s hair.
Sugar snow is the continual, annoying, trickle of frozen water-crystals down the back of one’s neck while lost in a cold, dank labyrinth of never-ending caverns.
The comparison could be made that  Romantic Snow is similar to enjoying a spontaneous dance with the one you love beneath a mid-summer cloud burst. It is fun! It is exhilarating! It ends soon, and the Sun is out again. Bluebirds sing, flowers burst forth, and Life is good.
Sugar snow is comparable to trudging back to the clubhouse from the 14th tee in a cold, gray, monotonous drizzle. You are carrying your clubs because the battery in the golf cart pooped out. And your shoes don’t fit real well so now a blister is erupting on your heel All the while, your golf partner is nattering on and on without end about how the rain is great for the ground water levels. You wonder if his body would remain submerged in a water hazard with a full bag of clubs strapped to it.
THAT, my friend, is a Sugar Snow.
The city plows have been making a valiant effort to keep up with it. For the most part, they have done a commendable job. However it is one of Sugar Snow’s little quirks to not billow from the roadways. No, it prefers to lie there and morph into a greasy, tenacious goo. If you are not familiar with driving in Sugar Snow, an excellent simulation to enjoy follows.
First, turn on your garden hose. Even better, turn on your neighbor’s garden hose, and proceed to completely soak your street. If you can plug up the storm drains and achieve approximately a half inch of water, so much the better. If your neighbor complains, tell him you are conducting a scientific experiment. He should be honored you are using his water
Second, apply a copious layer of bearing grease to the treads of your tires. If you don’t have bearing grease, Vaseline or Crisco will suffice. Ask your neighbor if you can use some of his.
Third, get in your now greased up vehicle. You may wish to wipe your hands off, first. Failing to do so simply adds extra excitement. It is up to you.
Now, proceed from your drive into the now watery street. Accelerate to approximately 35 miles per hour. You say your wheels are spinning and slipping? Well, just mash in the gas more. There you go! See? Easy as pie.
Okay, now, slam on the brakes. Try to maneuver into your neighbor’s drive while frantically turning the steering wheel and the blasted car takes over with a mind of its own.
Brace for a crash. Watch out for the airbag.
There! Wasn’t that fun? What’s that? You need to return home for a change of clothing?
Such is a short journey to the corner store in Sugar Snow, even with four wheel drive. It gets you going, but does nothing to help stopping.
I have no idea how much snow is forecast from this storm. Nor do I really care.
It is late January, it is Saturday, it is snowing, and I am indoors. Excuse me; I think I hear my pillow calling my name.
Wake me up when it is March.

No comments:

Post a Comment