Saw my first fox today in ages.  Ben has apparently been doing a good job at keeping them away, but it always delights me to see that rusty red ghosting over the snow.

We've gotten gobsmacked with snow the last couple of days, with a rolling series of storms coming in; I hear the predictions are anywhere from 3 feet to 6. o.O

Snow removal is taking its toll.  Greg spent a good two hours snowblowing the driveway while I made dinner; we ate around 10 pm.  The snow was wet and heavy crap, so Greg was pretty whupped when done.  Due to a late-afternoon chai, I was up late, then woke early and tossed and turned.

Greg had this morning off from work, with a catering in the afternoon/evening.  I was on call, but didn't get anything in the morning.

Good thing, too.

Greg got up around 7 or 8 and went to put another two hours into the driveway.  In bringing my car up, he got it stuck.

My car, Mina, is a great little car.  A 2006 Subaru Forester, it generally handles the snowy terrain with ease.  At least, it does when the tires are good, which is Decidedly Not the condition the current ones are in.  More like as bald as Mr Clean.

Thus, cue us trudging down the driveway.  Cue lots of pushing, revving, digging, putting down sand and a raggedy towel.  All, of course, to no avail.

So I ask Greg about using his pickup to pull me out.  He's got good winter tires, and if he can get a little speed going uphill, he should be able to pop my car right out.  Greg agrees that this is not a horrible idea, and goes to fetch his truck.

In backing down, he winds up heading into a fence post.  Right before he hits, I start honking the horn, as I realize that his angle is not part of a Clever Plan.  Of course, when he gets out of the truck, his first question for me is, "Why didn't you tell me I was headed into a post?"

Oh, I dunno.  Not being in the truck with you might have been a reason.  I'm not a mind reader is a pretty close second.  I just gave him a dirty look. 

We dig the truck out and maneuver it down to my car, close enough for the tow rope to have some slack.  Greg pops it into 4-lo and proceeds to go exactly nowhere.  Instead, he carves massive ruts through the rotting snow (it's, oh, 35 degrees out or so, gray and overcast, with horrible flat light) with his front tires.  Out comes the kitty litter for purchase.  He keeps backing up, getting closer and closer and closer to my car.  I'm trying not to hyperventilate.

Taking a break from the truck, we go back to rocking and revving my car.  We finally manage to get me pivoted around and down and out the mouth of the driveway. 

I went and turned around and headed back to our driveway, just in time to see Greg backing down the driveway--and watch him get sucked into the embankment just south of where he'd gotten my car stuck. He goes through the embankment, completely off the driveway, and into the drainage ditch.  He had enough speed going that the truck pitched and threatened to roll on its side.  Scared the crap out of me to watch.

The truck came to rest at a 45 degree angle, one back wheel up in the air and the nose firmly lodged in wet, crappy snow.

. . . We both agreed that this was a good time to give up and call the towing company.

I needed to get my car off the road, so went to pull it into the throat of the driveway.  In doing so, I had to get over the good-sized berm the county had left at the base.  I started to get bogged down, so hit the gas--just in time to hit ruts that threw my car sideways.  I slammed on the brakes, but my car started sliding sideways downhill (remember the bad tires and rotting snow?).

Through what was probably pure luck and sheer willpower, my car eventually came to rest right next to the truck.  I was so close that when I opened my window and reached out, I could easily touch the side of his truck.  I clambered out of the passenger side and ran Completely Out of Cope.  Cue slightly hysterical "oh my god, what's NEXT?!" kind of tears.


We went inside and I poured us each a stiff cocktail.  At 11 am.


Got the towing company out.  We prayed that the driver would be cool enough to pull us both out, as Greg has towing insurance on his car, but I don't on mine.  One thing we had going for us was that there was really no way to pull his truck out without getting my car out first--or, at least, without making his job a lot harder than it needed to be.

The driver and Greg insisted that I'd be fine with just backing out; I knew they were dead wrong.  I had one front wheel over the edge of the drive (even though Greg tried to insist that I didn't) and gravity was against me.  In addition, it was warming up even more (nearly 40), and all the wet snow was continuing to compact. The driver insisted, "Ah, don't worry. You'll be fine. These cars are amazing."  My response was to point out that yes, perhaps, but my tires were pretty much bald.  As he clucked his tongue in disapproval and wagged his head at me, Greg pointed out the set of four studded tires in the back of my car, obviously loaded and ready to be swapped out. 

The driver shut up pretty quickly after that, but he and Greg both insisted I try to back out.  Rather than argue, I gave Greg the stinkeye, which clearly said, if you're wrong and my car gets damaged, I'm not the one paying to get it fixed.  Following the tow driver's directions, I gently tried to ease my car out, only to have it slide even closer to Greg's truck.  I told you so I told you so I told you so, my brain kept insisting.  I told it that it was a good brain, very smart, and would it please shutthefuckup now?

After the first try, the driver ended up hooking onto one of the Tacoma's tow hooks and pulling, but we were so close that the tire rubbed up against my driver's side door.   He refastened and pulled again, giving just enough space for the guys to help me out.  I managed to back out after all, giving him clearance to slowly winch Greg's truck out.  While they filled out paperwork, I ran up the driveway and fetched some grass-feed beef and ground elk as a thank-you for the driver.

I backed the very butt end of my car into the driveway, nearly going into another snowbank again due to the light.  Greg made it up to the top of the driveway, but when we both left to go to work and he drove me down to my car, I had forgotten the keys inside the house.

One of the highly-procrastinated chores is done--namely, siding the new rabbit hutch with old feed bags.  They're waterproof, so if the hutch is close to the garage, it won't get damaged by rabbit urine.  It was long overdue, but we're good to go now.  It'll also keep the hutch warmer by cutting down on wind flow; as we've babies due any day now, that's a good thing.

Two more icky-ish chores today.  First, cleaning out the bottom of the chest freezer.  It's been unplugged and airing out for the last couple of weeks . . . yet, instead of everything drying, it's all molded.  Gross.  Time to round up all of the beat-up towels around the house.  This is not going to be fun.

Last, I need to pull the turkeys from the cooler out on the porch and wrap them in saran wrap and butcher paper for the two Denver folks who were in our CSA this year.  As part of that, I need to thaw out the guts and sort through them--heads and feet for the dog, pull out heart, liver, and so forth and decide what to do with them (likely answer:  feed to the dogs).  I also need to transfer the rest of the goat from the other cooler into the freezer, but I don't know if we have enough room in the stand-up.  I may need to wait until the chest freezer is up and running again.

Arright.  Time to go grab the little boom box, some good tunes, a face mask and some essential oils or Vick's Vaporub, lots of towels, put on my grubby sweatshirt, find an empty bucket for the used towels, and snag some other cleaning products.

*sigh*

I'm really not looking forward to this.