Saturday, January 30, 2010
Another Day Another Snowstorm
Responsible adulthood has never really been my forte.
It was fun hiking through the wildly falling snow but it was hard work. Audrey's boots have no traction and the three pairs of socks I was wearing inside my thin rubber boots weren't really keeping my toes all that warm, plus it was hard to keep the camera dry. And it's a long hike to BJs when you're slogging through four or five inches of snow. However, we got there, detouring first to the Admiral where there was a small but jolly crowd gathered. I love the Admiral, but lately I do feel as if I'm kind of 20 years too young for the dinner crowd and 20 years too old for the bar crowd, but then I kind of think that may be my central problem with life in general, particularly in Asheville. Last night's crowd definitely skewed to the 20somethings, which makes sense, since most people my age don't bother walking through blizzards to get beer. They should, though.
We got a suitcase full of PBR cans from BJs and went on over to Susan's house, another exciting walk, this time in five or six inches of snow. She made us dinner, which was delicious and there was much hilarity and drinking of beer and then we realized that we must slog on home.
"This is it," I said, "I'm finding a shortcut."
"But it's dark," said my daughter,
"It has to exist," I said firmly, because this has long been a bugaboo of mine. Susan's house is probably about 1/8 of a mile from mine at most as the crow flies but by road it is a long and wearisome uphill hike of 7/10 of a mile. There used to be a road between my house and her house, too, and according to Google maps there still is.
Google maps is wrong.
We tried part of the old road, but it ended up becoming a driveway, blocked by two brand new houses with stockade fences. Audrey fell down, which didn't make her happy but by this time I was determined. We went back to the road, went a few feet and I said, "Look, we can cut through right here." This is a place I have noted before, where just two houses back to back stand between my road and Susan's road.
"No we can't," said Audrey,
"Yes we can, " I said and did just that. The first house was empty, so that was a cakewalk. I sneaked through the snow along the side of the second house. I started to sneak around the front, too, but I looked up and saw a guy sitting right by the front window. So I sneaked up the steep, steep hill to the side of the house, just as quietly as an intoxicated forty something woman in four layers of clothes - it's hard to sneak when you're roughly twice your normal size and you didn't start out small to begin with - and eight inches of snow can sneak while she and her daughter are sort of whisper yelling at each other.
Me: "Come on, it's not hard."
Audrey: "I can not do this. This is illegal and my knee is going to go out and I already fell down."
Celeste: "That guy is going to hear us, shhh."
Me: "Just walk sideways. Here, grab my arm."
Audrey: "I don't want your stupid arm! I'm going to have to crawl through the snow and it's all your fault!"
Me: "Don't be such a wimp."
Audrey: "This is insane."
We made it though and hopefully we didn't destroy anything while we crawled up through somebody's landscaping. Audrey didn't talk to me for a while but eventually she got over it and we were home in no time. Today I feel a bit foolish about my spy escapade but, well, fuck it. All rules are suspended in the snow.