I dislike this weather. It’s been bitter cold all winter. Add to the ice storms during the past few days.
Why do people live here?
I believe this past Tuesday was the worst ice day, I’ve seen in some time. I heard most of the schools closed.
I couldn’t leave the house. If I had, I might have slid straight across the street into Ruth’s driveway.
Add to it, on Tuesday, my paper boy tossed our newspaper at the end of our driveway. And I really needed the paper.
It is that time of year for winter clearance sales. I’ve been known to purchase 70 knit Santa hats for 25 cents.
When the clearance sales drop to 50 percent off the lowest price, no matter what is it, I’ll buy it.
Anyway, I needed to get to the paper, so I dressed for my winter excursion.
I put on my long wool hooded coat over my summer nightgown (I don’t like flannel or fleece). I washed my eye glasses, so I could see through the sleet.
I threw my hair into a pony and pulled a knitted cap over my head. I stepped into my snow boots. I was good to go.
I yelled to Josh and Kelsey if I didn’t return by 9 (it was 8), they were to call a dogsled or the Mounties.
I could hear Josh mumble to wake him when it was over.
I was dressed and ready to face the cold. I pushed the garage door opener and a gust of wind blew a foot of icy snow into the garage.
I didn’t care. I had to get the paper for the winter sales.
I also wanted to beat my friends to the bargains.
As I stepped out of the garage, my coat blew upwards and my Aloha night gown dropped onto the ice. I was stuck to my driveway.
About the same time, I realized that I had not dried my glasses, so my eyeglass lenses froze.
I was not going to be deterred. I did what I would call a foxtrot. Or maybe it was a tango. I don’t suppose it mattered.
I’m sure the neighbors enjoyed it.
With my nightgown frozen to the ice, I formulated a new plan.
I would only step on snow. But, as I lifted my coat, the nightgown, dropped down and adhered to the ice.
Once again, I was stuck to the ice, and driveway, held hostage by a nightgown.
Struggling to stay balanced, I forcefully swung my hips, to detach the nightgown from the ice.
I couldn’t see through my frozen lens, so I glided.
My movement was more like an Olympic cross country move, to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right . . .
I ultimately made it to the newspaper at the end of the driveway.
I really don’t want to describe my return back up the driveway.
Suffice it to say, I will no longer be wearing that nightgown. Pieces of the gown are frozen until spring.
Mother Nature, I don’t mean to irritate you, but I’m losing my mind and I feel confined.
May I remind, you, Mother Nature, to please be kind. Bear in mind, I left my nightgown behind.
May spring, be well timed.
-- Diane Mack is coordinator of Putting Families First, Jackson County’s Family Week Foundation. Email her at email@example.com or visit www.jacksoncountyfamilyweek.org