Glorious Sunrise; Beautiful Day

The day started with a text message

which arrived as my cat was trying to talk me

into getting out of bed.

I was up earlier.

Crawled back in.

 

Good morning! Look at this glorious sunrise!

Suggest you have a little preparation at home

in case of surprise snow event.

 

Glorious sunrise, indeed!

Man, I wish I had a view of it in the mornings.

Sunrise is my favorite time of day.

 

I got up and checked out my sliver of a view.

 

 

Glorious, indeed!

Even just my tiny little sliver of it was so lovely 

through the living room window.

 

Snowstorm?

I figured it was just a joke.

 

A few hours later

right after lunch

the snow started to fall

and it just kept snowing and snowing

until I packed up and left work early

wondering about the roads.

 

I didn't have to wonder long.

The roads sucked.

The snow was coming down so hard

I couldn't keep my windshield clear.

 

Ice was building up.

I used my washer fluid.

Cool!

Now the ice was thicker but

a really really pretty

bright blue.

Awesome.

 

Finally I had to jump out of the car

while stopped at a light

in traffic

and see if I could snap some of the ice

from my wiper blades.

 

"SNAP" would be the pivotal word here.

Snap, indeed.

I flicked at the ice on the blade and

S N A P.

 

Interestingly

and certainly inopportune

considering all the cars around me,

the whiteout conditions

and the thick layer of ice on my windshield.....

all of a sudden I was holding

a wiper blade in my hand.

 

It was an odd feeling.

I liken it to what one might sense

should one reach out to shake someone's hand

and end up pulling their arm off.

Not a good feeling.

Not a good feeling at all.

 

I looked over at the guy sitting next to me

in traffic and his eyes

were bugged out

staring at me

not wanting to laugh

at me standing there with my wiper blade

in my hand

and praying

I'm pretty sure

I wouldn't yell

"Help me!"

in his direction.

 

When the snow is falling

and the wind is blowing

and ice is building up

apparently

it's every driver for themselves.

Whatever, dude.

I got this.

I know wiper blades snap back on.

No problem.

I got this.

 

Well.

There was too much ice on the blade

to quickly snap it into place.

The lights were changing.

Traffic was starting to move.

There was no way to keep the windshield clear

no where to turn for help

and I'm not much for crying in traffic

so I got back in my car

and squeezed my brave little Saturn nose up

real nice and close to the truck in front of me.

We were cozy. Really cozy.

Cozy enough

I'm pretty sure my license plate number

is now tattooed on his rear bumper.

All the while he had no clue.

He was none the wiser

of our symbiotic relationship...

a truth which burdens me

with a small measure of guilt

considering

I'm pretty sure

it wasn't nearly as fulfilling a relationship

for him

as it was for me.

 

That aside.

Thank you big truck

with big taillights

for helping me through the intersection.

I followed you for half a mile or so

until I finally slid onto a side street

and you left me.

LEFT. ME.

 

After all we'd been through.

I watched your taillights disappear

and ok, I will admit it.

I almost

almost

cried in traffic.

But, nope.

No sir.

You can leave me Mister

but you ain't gonna make me cry.

I had a wiper blade to re-attach.

 

So I ended up nose-first in a massive driveway

leading to a very large house

in a big neighborhood.

Up the road a US Mail truck

was making its way

box by box by roadside box

inching nearer

with every handful of mail

delivered to a nearby address.

 

Yay!!!!

I was a postal carrier for many years!

Fate has smiled down upon me.

A handy automotively-inclined mail delivery fellow

will no doubt

pull up here momentarily

and help me!

 

Wanting to look proficient and able

I leaned over my car,

ankle-deep in snow

and reached across the hood

to re-attach the blade.

 

And that's when the connection mechanism

broke into about three pieces

in my hand.

 

This is not good.

NOT good at all.

(Swearing was becoming an attractive option.)

 

So consumed was I

in the unfortunate circumstance of the

shattering connector

I failed to notice the mail carrier

exit his vehicle

walk up the driveway toward me

and stand by the opposite side of my car.

 

I looked up.

He smiled.

I smiled,

already grateful for the good training

afforded him by his dear mother.

My good Samaritan had arrived!

 

He handed me the mail.

 

HUH????

Yeah. He handed me the mail.

And this is where the shameful thing happened.

It did.

I'm sorry.

It shouldn't have.

But it did.

 

I rolled my eyes.

I can eye-roll right up there with the best of them.

Not proud of it.

Not gonna promise I'll never do it again

I'm a work in progress, you know.

Right there in the snow

I looked into his smiling face

and I gave him my very best

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME

eye roll

and I said

(quite possibly in a sarcastic tone of voice)

"Do I LOOK like I live here?"

 

Shame. Shame. Shame.

Shame, Debbie. Shame.

He's just a guy trying to do his job.

(Tried to hand off first-class personal mail to a total unidentified stranger

so I'm not saying he was doing his job WELL

but a guys gotta earn a living, right.)

 

He turned and cut a deep path through the long driveway of snow

to the front door of the house.

As he came back down the drive I immediately found it in my heart

to forgive him the rough start to our relationship.

 

"Well," I laughed, "I MIGHT have to sleep here

tonight if I can't figure out how to fix this wiper blade!"

Smiling at him

with a big

all-is-forgiven

smile.

 

He smiled back.

He got in his truck and drove away.

Another snowstorm relationship bites the dust.

 

(Note to self, Deb:

You're going through men today

like a hooker goes through red lipstick.

Make note

to up your

damsel-in-distress game.

It's gonna be a long winter.)

 

Left to my own devices

shattered wiper connection in hand

I got on my phone and started texting

for possible help.

 

I did get a couple of interesting, helpful responses.

 

Mike was no where near and suggested I look up a

windshield wiper attachment tutorial on YouTube.

 

Ryan was miles away too

but wanted me to know he and his wife just found

the "Free Babysitting" coupon I gave them as a shower gift when

their now-toddler was born and by the way, does this thing expire

and had I heard they were having twins?

 

I knew Bill was no where near

I just needed the moral support

and I asked him to pray.

 

That's what I was doing.

Literally.

I was standing in what was actually

a beautiful snowstorm

in a neighborhood of beautiful homes

and magnificent old trees

looking up through the branches

and asking,

"God, what am I gonna do??"

No way to call road service, it'd be hours.

I couldn't see to drive, the ice and snow kept building up

even as I scraped it off with my glove.

Everyone else was stuck in their own snowstorm trouble.

The snow wasn't going to be stopping until hours later.

It was gonna get dark soon.

"What am I gonna do?"

 

My reaction to this kinda stuff is always

pretty much the same.

I laugh.

I do.

Ridiculous situations

you'd more likely see on a sitcom

always just make me laugh.

Really?

You were standing in traffic

in a snowstorm

and your wiper blade busts off in your hand?

That's funny, right there.

We might be frozen to death by morning

in a strangers driveway

but that is funny.

 

As I laughed,

all I could think was.....

well girl, let's make MacGuyver proud.

 

I started plowing through the resources in my car:

Seven Starbucks stir sticks

A spatula.

A bottle of Windex.

 A nice selection of CDs in a variety of musical genres.

A dog bone.

Three Bic pens (medium point)

and a big, long stem of dried switchgrass,

a souvenir from a summer Sunday

road cruise.

 

And my gloves.

And the rubber handle that slipped off

my snowscraper, last storm.

 

Ahhhhh-HA!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

I know it looks like I ran down Mickey Mouse

but that's my glove

stretched over the rubber handle of my ice scraper

and squished onto the little

back-and-forthy-thing

of my windshield wipers.

 

I got back in the car

said another prayer,

pushed back into traffic

in the direction of a service center

just a couple of miles down the road.

 

Somehow my little glove had a mind to be helpful

stepping up to the snowstorm plate,

cutting the tiniest swath of a peep hole

in the windshield ice,

allowing me to see

taillights.

 

I barnacled us onto yet another truck in front of us

trusting him to make tracks I could follow

and before too long

I was turning into the service center.

 

My hands were so frozen

I could barely turn the door handle

but darn if the first thing I saw

when I walked into the little office

was a wiper blade display!

 

YES!

Smiling to greet me was Trent

whom I immediately adopted as one of my sons

promising birthday gifts and invitations

to Christmas dinner until the day I die.

 

He sold me blades.

And he put them on my car.

(Take THAT, post office mail guy.)

 

  

 

Thank you God, for keeping me safe.

Thanks to my dear ones

for being there when I reached out with text my messages.

 

And thank you Trent

for welcoming me into a warm little office,

for laughing with me

and helping me find my way safely home.