Four’s Flights

…if it didn’t so egregiously aggravate the gag reflex:

I spent the morning and part of the afternoon digging out my little cruiser, dressed in Frank’s coat and completely inadequate gloves (having cleverly lost my big wooly mittens on an errand run last week), a feat of which I was justly proud until I made the mistake of turning around and attempting to park in the tracks left by one of my tenant’s SUVs. Stuck fast I was, and this time for good. Spent most of the afternoon digging as if I were at the gym and counting calories burned,  trying in vain to get the car to stop slewing west every time I rocked back, and only finally got it to the road in the pitch dark after my other tenant (Jose) came home (yay!) with a tow chain. The three of us trundled out in the big SUV down to the train station where Jose’s car was buried under four feet of snow and after digging for what seemed liked a few minutes (though I suspect it was longer) got it uncovered enough to tow out in just two tries — a masterful job. We then drove home and did NOT celebrate with mulled cider, since the two big hulking guys had to go to bed immediately. I could have duuuug all night… well that doesn’t make for a good song but I had a good time. I’m celebrating with one of my cranberry scones slathered in bourbon jam. The dogs don’t think much of it, but then, they don’t know anything about bourbon jam. Or tow chains. Though they do know their way around the subject of digging. Hmmm. There was my first mistake!

 I got all suited up, put on Frank’s winter coat so I could feel close to him since he had done the digging so many times in our years together, put a smile on my face and coerced WookieRosie to come out with me. We dug our way out of the sliders (the snow two feet high) to the dog yard gate where I reached over the fence with the shovel to move away enough snow to open it (fortunately it was just drifted, and not packed down), squeezed through and cleared a path from the dog door to the yard so The Littles could finally get out of the house and take care of business.  WookieR. thought it was all a great lark, leaping up to catch the shovel drifts in the air – made me happy all the way through.The snow had been piled high above the top of the pet door so the only way out for them would have been to tunnel, which clearly none of them were inclined to attempt.

Once I persuaded The Littles it was indeed possible to leave the house, I took off for the front of the house. WookieRosie  again kept me company on my slog down the long walk to the end of the driveway to unmask the car, bravely forging a path ahead of us so the trudging was easy for me, looking back over her shoulder from time to time to make sure I was still in tow. Whatta dog! I saved the drifts in front of the car for after lunch: the thick vegetable curry soup and sourdough  I’d made yesterday for me, and hot home-made chicken and veggies for the dogs.

     Frank’s coat is drying by the woodstove where the logs I’ve been  collecting and piling up all fall sit in silent testimony to his passing, and to how very much about joy and work I managed to learn from him. WookieRosie is asleep, curled up on her special bed and twitching, likely dreaming of more snow.