In Which I Screw with Mother Nature and Have Some Regrets

 Going to swipe Martha's Simple Woman's Daybook post idea today (although I have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone and 'simple woman' is making me giggle, which kind of makes it a self-fulfilling name, doesn't it?) This will fulfill my need to rhapsodize about my amazing weekend and also breathlessly detail my harrowing journey home.

Outside my window: An exceptionally ill-mannered display.

My weekend: FABULOUS. I drove to Hamilton Thursday and took Eve out for dinner. (She didn't want to be photographed because she's been in the lab all day and felt gross, which is silly because she looked adorable). I dropped off leftover Halloween candy and her favourite bagels. I always go to Barrie to visit my friend Zarah (HI ZARAH) in the fall, and now that Eve is in Hamilton I stop there the first night for an extra visit between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I drove to Barrie Friday morning and we commenced our usual activities - eating stuff, buying stuff, meeting her friends for coffee, wandering around downtown, talking about everything under the sun, getting a little bit high and doing a puzzle, admiring the cat.

This afternoon: Recovering from the absolute madness that was the drive home.

The summer after second year university, my boyfriend and I went to Lake Placid to do some camping and hiking. We stayed in a Bed and Breakfast out in the middle of nowhere one night, and went out for a walk. We hadn't realized how close to dark it was, and I don't think we even had flashlights (and phones weren't a thing). We were wandering around this dark road late at night, and we started to hear animals crashing around in the bush and I thought, What are we, actual morons? You know those horror movies where the locals in a little town sacrifice a couple of out-of-towners every decade or so? If that had been us, we would have deserved it.

I wasn't as blithely ignorant yesterday. I knew there was going to be weather. I thought if I just took it slow it would be okay. Not fun, but okay. And it nearly was. It was snowing, then hard, pouring rain, and there were cars and transports in the ditches. I felt like I was doing the right things, but presumably everyone in the ditch thought the same thing. 

Why didn't I stop and get a hotel? Do people actually do that? It sounds eminently sensible and yet the thought of stopping somewhere and having to wait it out seemed unbearable. 

I was seven hours into what should have been a five-hour drive (at one point my GPS said the time left in my drive was two hours FOR two hours) when I came off the 401 onto the 416. It was dark, there were tall trees on either side, and now an unbroken wall of snow was coming at me. I suddenly realized that I had, in fact,  not been clearly envisioning what 'really bad' could actually be. It felt impossible to keep going, and unsafe to stop. If I slid into the ditch I felt like I might be buried before anyone found me. I was doing major yoga breathing and crawling along at 40 kilometres an hour. I almost called Matt, but I thought he was in the air between Dubai and Singapore and even if he was reachable it just seemed mean. I skipped around the friends list in my head and settled on Jody (HI JODY). I think I subconsciously knew that she grew up around here and knew these roads well, but mostly where flipping one's shit is concerned, she just doesn't. She was a calm voice in a blizzard of panic and regret and, well, blizzard. She established where I was, how fast I was going and how soon I could safely get off somewhere and regroup, and talked me through every minute of the next however minutes (seemed like hours, was probably less than thirty minutes) until I could get off in Kemptville and find a Tim Horton's (HI JODY THANKS FOR RESCUING ME). 

I had several texts and phone calls from Matt and the kids and my mom. Angus had been acting as worrier in chief while Matt was in the air. I got a peach lemonade and checked the weather to see how long I might have to wait, and then looked outside and realized the snow was nearly stopped - I might have hit the exact worst window of the entire day. I got back on the road and had to call Jody two more times to make sure I was going the right way because my brain had stopped working (HI JODY THANKS FOR NOT CALLING ME AN IDIOT). Somewhat humorously, driving while the roads were shit but the snow was light now seemed the height of smooth sailing. 

Lesson learned, for now at least. I should have stayed in Barrie. I am not an emergency room physician, I am a school librarian, and missing a morning of work would have been a negligible thing. It was a stupid risk and I should not have taken it. 

I am wearing: bike shorts and a tank top because I'm about to go do yoga and try to unlock my knee, and thermal socks because the floor is cold - don't try to imagine it, it's too sexy for anyone to bear. 

I am listening to: Apple music classic station, because I am being all zen and shit.

I am thinking: How happy I am that among the 120 traffic accidents yesterday no one seems to have died or been seriously injured. And also how egregious this headline is (I feel like Nance will be with me)

I am feeling: Fervently grateful and suitably chastened on a personal level. On a bigger-picture scale, I am overjoyed to hear that, as my friend Liz (HI LIZ) put it, "SCOTUS rejected the snake-handlers' petition to revisit Obergefell". It's only a battle, not remotely the war, but still, it's good to see. 

I am reading: Blogs, catching up from missing posts on the weekend when I only had my phone. And this book which needs to be returned to the library posthaste. Giving it 50 pages to decide if I continue or fire it and move on to all the other library books that also need to be returned.

I am cooking: Nothing, because I left on Thursday and Matt left on Saturday and we were already low on groceries. I pulled a loaf of oatmeal bread out of the freezer and I have eggs and a couple of wrinkly apples, I'll be okay.

I am watching: I just finished Professor T, which was very enjoyable. I'm not sure what I'm watching next.

I am going: Maybe to get groceries, maybe not. I'm off until Wednesday but will probably go out for bar night tomorrow. 

This week: In a spectacular example of locking the barn door after the horse has been stolen and buried in a snowbank, I have made my winter-tires appointment. Two more work days, some work around the house, four more blog posts and a play Friday night - it's in my calendar and I know who I'm going with, but not what or where it is. Presumably someone will let me know. And I should cook something at some point - probably something Suzanne has posted about, riding her kitchen coattails has been serving me well lately.