Reflections When There's White

In my adulthood (especially my most recent years of adulthood) I've learned that I'm truly not concerned for myself much while out-n-about unless there's actual precipitation. I mean I’m pretty good at managing my way about the roadways as long as there’s no ice or snow or sleet or hale around to rumble with one’s self-esteem. That’s not too much to ask. Right? 😂

Growing up Mom pouted when it snowed & we’d not leave the house unless there was something important happening. Especially as Dad would be the one behind the wheel. I’m sure this is most of why I became unconsciously timid regarding the white stuff sitting around unwanted when it came time to be commuting.

Then there were the glory days of the white stuff when I was a kid. No, I don’t mean “playing” in it (well, we do have a few memories of doing that too! 😊); I mean when Mom began waking me up in enough time to get our front walk cleared off in so that Dad could make his way to the family sedan & get to work on time.

Despite my somewhat claims...considering my affections for all things camping...I'm not a "country girl". This apparently makes me a "city girl", which I believe I'm not either. Though there's no classification for a "suburban girl", which I am.  😏Our family had a typical suburban house & yard - including our front walk & driveway. 😊

Eventually I was to clear off the driveway around the sedan too. Some of this was how much time I’d need to get it all finished before Dad had to get going. Dad’s kids, as he’d learn once we’d reached adulthood, were natured & nurtured to be just as meticulous as he is. I’d make it my quest to get every square inch, square speck 😂, out from under & around the sedan’s tires. I had a good method of how to properly hold & angle the shovel (this is the type I started out using).

Eventually the joke became, much in the same way as it was for a new lawnmower bag as my end-of-summer birthday gift, that I’d be getting a more modern, more efficient shovel (like this one) as my Christmas gift. Mom & Dad were all smiles, & not so serious; they kindly got the shovel – in general. After all, I wouldn’t be the only one to be utilizing it; if the walk needed to be shoveled, & I was busy otherwise, then someone else would have to be out there bending & scooping. (We didn’t live in a “snow pushing” kind of region. 😏)

It really was mainly the “overnight snow” that I’d be helping dig the family out from underneath. Back at that time our front walk was the only way to get from the house to the driveway, which included a decent-sized parking pad for two vehicles. Typically, the family sedan, which got better gas mileage, & since for most of Dad’s career, he drove upwards of an hour each way to work, Dad would drive the sedan & leave the other vehicle, the family minivan for Mom in the case that she’d need to leave for an errand, an emergency, or anything that would be happening with us kids while Dad was still away at work. (Folks, these were the PRE-mobile phone days & look at how well we survived .😏😉😂)

When the weather was inclement, these two vehicles switched places on the parking pad. Mom would make every effort to not need to be out & about as she preferred having Dad drive her when it snowed more than a dusting, & this way the sedan Dad would be driving to work would be the first vehicle right off the front sidewalk. It worked out well.

This plan worked great for years. It probably began somewhere around my mid-elementary years. Likely once my personality had formed enough that I was the “morning person kid” & would gladly welcome the early wake up & then the joy of the quick cat nap I’d get to appreciate when I had remaining lag time in between finishing up outside & not having much to do before needing to get to my bus stop.

The really awesome part, however, is rather juvenile. It came once it made sense for me to get the sedan’s car keys & get the car warmed up for Dad. This way he wouldn’t have to sit in it after the walk & driveway were already so simple a walk. I think it began that there were that many inches of snow on the windshield & I’d be fetching brushes (like this one) & scrapers (like this one) from their stow spots inside the car. This was basic & just more being meticulous; this wasn’t the thrill.

When I’d become encouraged to get the sedan started I’d not yet learned about the windshield wipers, as in, where the toggle was on the right-hand side of the steering wheel, etc. I’d no real way to get everything cleaned up from the inside, which wasn’t necessary. I would simply start the engine once I was encouraged to do so…& I might have been encouraged to switch the dial to defrost too. This I could understand fairly well as we’d already been accustomed to that dial during “air-conditioning season” for many years. 😂

Now here I am in my adult years &, while I still believe in being meticulous, (& I am), I also believe in watching the digital light tell me that my vehicle’s safe enough to drive away…& I use the windshield wipers while I turn the dial to defrost once the vehicle warms up sufficiently to do so. I’ve gotten better at leaving myself enough time between when I’m ready to go somewhere & when I need to be going somewhere, in so that I treat my vehicle well & can adequately have the engine warmed up. Even if it’s just a matter of preparing my beverages for the day, or getting all of the bags together that I’ll be taking with me, after I turn on my ignition. 😁

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