Well, that was quite a snow event, now wasn’t it?
It never augers well when the chief meteorologist from The Weather Channel flies into Kansas City the night before a storm. It’s a little like the cameraman setting up his gear at the watering hole where a herd of wildebeest are having their afternoon cocktails – you just know there’s a pride of lions just waiting to come on in on cue.
I had asked my dear Sir to run to the store prior to the weather closing in, and told him I would text him a list. Now not wanting to create a whole novel with my texting, I kept it short and sweet, making the odd suggestion, but including what I considered the telling phrase “to get us through.”
Sir came home with everything on my list – literally. Cold cuts consisted of 35 slices of salami. A couple of tomatoes – I gave him a hint that they were the red things, rendered two tomatoes. Baby Swiss cheese gave me six slices. Baby arugula – some green stuff on the eastern wall near the bagged lettuce – proved successful.
But the term “to get us through” obviously didn’t ring any bells with him at all. We had enough to scrape together a couple of sandwiches the night before the storm, after which I was left to be quite creative with canned soup whose expiration date would’ve made Noah blush, and some open packets of fettuccine. Gourmet it wasn’t.
So when I commented with the best of humor – I thought – he got a tad blustery and defensive, suggesting strongly it was all my fault as I should’ve been more specific. I will remember this for future self-preservation and reference.
Now leap forward to the day after the storm. With a snow drift up to my nose outside my garage door, I knew manfully struggling to the office was not going to be achievable, so I was very thankfully able to work from home, hoping against hope that an eager beaver or two hoping to make some money would turn up with snow shovels.
Well, three little angels did arrive, all dressed in snow suits patterned in jungle camouflage, which I found hugely amusing as they stood out like – well, you can insert your own analogy here – against the blinding white snow. Their fee for such a service was so reasonable, Sir actually upped the price for them. I actually offered my firstborn child – sorry Madam, I love you honey, but you’re over there in Sydney in 80-degree weather on the beach. I knew you’d understand.
Not only did our angels snow blow and shovel, they salted as well – and left us a card with a phone number and an email address, and a promise to come back any time it snows over 2 inches again. I will more than happily divulge Juan’s number if you care to contact me.
And just think how all this very slowly melting snow will help the garden. Every cloud has a silver lining, doesn’t it?
Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.