Weekend dream: I was feeding a deer outside by our wood pile. Guess what? A big hunk of raw steak. (Unconscious impulses arising after a week of detox eating only fresh fruits, vegetables, nuts and lentils? Even though I don’t even like steak?)
Then arrived the best part of the dream. The deer pattered in through the front door and tentatively came inside our Little House in the Big Woods. About four of them curled in little balls and slept. It felt peaceful and right.
This morning I aimed to work at the school early. Awoke at 5:30 a.m. and stoked the fire. Yoga-stretched and sat quietly on the couch in the basement feeling the hush of early morning, catching glimpses of snowflakes through the window. Remembered the deer dream and smiled softly.
“How much snow did we get?” Barry asked when he tumbled out of bed.
“Dunno,” I replied. “Four or five inches?”
He was still nursing his coffee when I announced it time to depart. Pulled on tall boots and tramped outside.
Oh no~~the snow was deeper than it appeared. My boots plowed their way toward the car. I pried open the door and a pile of snow landed in the driver’s seat. Began to painstakingly brush off the vehicle. Brush, brush, oh this is way deeper than four to five inches. The brush crawled slowly through the pile of snow. My stamina is not hopping after a week of detox. With the car half brushed, I followed the boot prints back to the house.
“Barry, be sure to wear your boots,” I cautioned. “It’s deep. I’m not even done brushing off the car!”
“How much snow?”
“Between five and ten inches?” I guessed, not wanting to venture too much or too little.
His boots were already out. I headed back into the white.
Brush, brush, brush. OK, the car was now ready to go. The temperature felt pretty warm, nigh on 30 F (-1 C) , one of the reasons the snow is so wet and heavy.
I hopped in and put the car in gear. C’mon, Betsy! The car moved forward two inches and stopped. C’mon Betsy! We began to do the stuck-car dance, two inches forward and three inches backwards. It’s a rock ‘n roll dance we northerners learn early in our stuck vehicle days. You rock ‘n roll the car until it gains enough moment to move toward the snow.
Unfortunately, this doesn’t always happen. The Buick was as stuck as it could be in a sea of heavy white snow. I turned off the car and sat in the dark pondering how Life always holds the upper hand.
Barry flashed the porch lights. That was my signal from the lighthouse: come back in.
Round Two. I tramped back through the deep snow. What a great workout! (Ha ha. In situations like these one has two options. A) Bitch. B) Relax and enjoy what the Universe hath determined shall happen.
“Guess I need to plow,” sighed the husband in relatively good spirits. “Thank goodness I don’t have lots to do first thing this morning at work.”
What’s a girl to do when she’s stranded at home with nothing to do for an undetermined hour or two?
How about write a blog? (You’re not surprised are you?)
P.S. Anyone had any interesting dreams lately? Any deer sleep in your living room?