“Advice is like snow; the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into, the mind.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge
If you grew up in Sydney, or spent most of your adult life in Asia or the Middle East, then snow is something you still find enchanting. Well I did, until everyone left after Christmas and today arrived.
We have a thick blanket of snow on the ground here and a steady –3 degrees. The snow makes everything look wonderful, even the garbage bins look sweet. My unfinished efforts in the garden seem just right with a blanket of white. The trees that didn’t get trimmed last Autumn, weigh heavy, dragged down by their powdery load.
But today, it was the first day of something resembling normal life. Mr Dear Husband was shipped back to his place of endeavours, where we hope he will earn enough money to pay for our holiday festivities. Those stragglers still hanging on, were loaded into the Outlaws car and sent on their way to a day of sledding. Me, I considered going back to bed, then decided that perhaps it would be a good idea to check the laundry…. BIG MISTAKE! any visions of flopping on the sofa and staring dreamily out the window were blown to smithereens.
The next shock was my storage cellar… empty. The fridge, empty, the cupboards, empty… and so it was that I was forced outdoors. And this is where the fun started. A simple trip to the supermarket, when snow is involved, takes a level of military planning that I was just not ready for. We won’t talk about the windshield scrapper that seems to have mysteriously disappeared (can you say Mr Dear Husband?) or the bollocking I got from the Father Outlaw when he discovered that we didn’t have any window anti-freeze in the house. I am sure it was on a shopping list at some stage… some where… who knows!
It took me 20 minutes to get the car out of the driveway. By the time I had cleared the snow off the car, scraped the windows, shovelled the snow away from the back of the car, and cleared my front path… I was sweating like Rambo under-fire, but my toes and fingers where turning black with frostbite.
The supermarket car park was just as much fun. A choice of driving over huge mountains of snow, or parking in a lake of grey slush. And I didn’t have a Euro coin to put in the slot to get a shopping cart. All the time there was a little voice in my head saying… “Hmmm didn’t you just say you loved living in Germany? Isn’t this the year that you embrace life and run with the bulls?”
At about the same time I was searching my pockets to find a coin that would save me from doing the shopping as a juggling act, I noticed a man talking to his bicycle. First to his bicycle lock, then to his shopping bag, and inside the store I saw him select a loaf of bread, give it a hearty kiss…then do a little jig.
He seemed pretty happy and normal to me.
I want to be that guy… just today, just until I find my feet again.