Terrifying, right?
I spent the afternoon on the couch with a bag of tortilla chips and some Christmas movies.
Scott had been duck-hunting 3 hours north that day, so he called around 5, when it actually started getting bad out, to say there was an accident and he was stuck in traffic on our hill. There is one paved way into our development and one way out. Poor design.
He turned around, went back to the highway, got on the dirt-ish road that is, literally, the only other way into this place, and called again. Another accident. Both accesses were blocked.
By this time it was pitch black, 15 degrees, and snow was actually coming down.
He went back the original way. Only this time, traffic had backed up even farther, so he decided to park at the post office TWO miles away and walk home. He did, with Scout and some dead ducks in tow.
He loves it.
The next afternoon, after the plows finally went by, we walked two miles to go pick up his truck at the post office (because my car was under half a foot of snow and we were feeling the cabin fever).
Hello snow boots. It's been awhile.
Also on Friday, I planned to DO ALL THE STUFF. Wrap, bake, grade, clean, exercise (maybe), and so on.
Instead, I ended up spending the ENTIRE day playing with a batch of sugar cookies.
And part of the day Saturday too. A time manager I am not. But this is the prettiest batch I've ever made, so it was worth it.
Onto Saturday…
Remember when I told you that Scott doesn't care for surprises? He took offense to that. While it's true that, to him, a gift is a gift, whether he buys it himself on December 8th or opens it on Christmas morning…to me, a gift is opened on Christmas morning. Period. End of story. No wiggle room. Gifts this time of year are for on Christmas.
Which explains why I wrapped up shirts I bought myself a few weeks ago in Christmas paper and wrote "To: Kristin, From: Santa" on the tag and stuck them under the tree.
Anyway. The highlight of my 3 1/2 day weekend was our new car.
On Saturday morning, Scott told me he was going out to check the trapline with his friend. This wasn't unusual. He goes a few times a week and it always takes a couple of hours. He wasn't back by noon and called to say the traps were frozen and it was taking longer than usual. I felt really bad for him because his "plan" was to come home and do some maintenance on my car before went to potentially trade it in on Sunday. His whole Saturday would be spent doing work (while I watched Christmas movies and baked cookies, obviously).
When he finally came home around 3, he asked me to help him move his motorcycle outside so he could work on the car. He opened the garage door and there it was.
The only reason I KNEW it was ours was because it had my Alaska plates on it. Turns out, he'd been driving to Springfield all week to try and close this deal. It was made more complicated by the fact that we were trading in my car and because we hate salesman and their incessant need to take advantage of customers (Scott coming home with the Rav4 = he won).
Scout's lucky I love him…a dog in my new car is practically blasphemous.
Merry Christmas to us!
Back to work tomorrow…9 1/2 more days…9 1/2 more days…Don't worry, I got my papers graded. Mostly.
