First Snow
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Frozen.
The world was frozen.
Snow had fallen, and was continuing to fall.
And the roads were bad.
The plan had initially been for no visit to Grace that day. It was time for OLeif to play at Memorial again. And they were to pick up Rose shortly before nine o’clock. And down to Skinker.
That… didn’t happen.
About the time OLeif was sliding over the highway toward a pile of cars breaking for an accident… it was decided that OLeif would, instead, drop off Collette and Puck at Grace, while he continued on into the city.
And because they arrived so late, just as Sinai was beginning his sermon, they were obliged to sit halfway up to the front of the church. Rather an uncomfortable sort of place…
Then Collette waited in the lobby with Linnea and Puck for another hour and fifteen minutes during the second service, letting Puck and Linnea snack on the bag of homemade cookies and snacks that Henri’s wife had baked for the Junior High and High School Sunday School teachers… until Joe, who had been at the first service, returned from doing the accounts at work to pick them up, drift around the ice behind the Pizza Street building, and pick up Little Caesar’s. If anyone knew how to handle the ice and snow, it was Joe. He was master.
Meanwhile…
Mom and Dad, still in Branson, were probably happy that they had, in fact, not taken an evening ride on the Branson Belle, which had, shortly later, run aground, and all 600 passengers had to stay the night onboard.
At the house…
Carrie was busy squirting her water bottle, long range, at the wood burning stove in the everlasting, unsuccessful, attempt to put out the fire.
Rose was unpacking a Christmas basket from their elderly neighbor, whose driveway Francis had just shoveled, including nuts and hard strawberry candies, …
“Who let me eat those spiced walnuts?” Carrie-Bri asked shortly later. “I’m not supposed to have sugar. Or nuts.”
Joe and Francis left to pick up Wally to practice drifting in the Family Arena parking lot. This was also unsuccessful. And all three returned, after which Francis thundered out to practice another form of drifting. In his go-cart.
And Puck was busy explaining things about milk to Rose…
“Rose. Grandpa can’t have milk because it doesn’t work with his body.”
And everyone congregated around the stove with hot cocoa and discussed more Myers-Briggs profiles while looking up strange things on Esty, like soot ball Spirited Away earrings, Tardis eyeshadow, and fish and monkey incense burners, etc., etc. Linnea researched bacteria for school. And Francis and Puck did wrestling back-flips and steam rollers and things like that.
Sometime later…
“We’d better start cleaning things up before they get back…”
“What time is it?”
“4:30.”
“Oh, we’ve got an hour and a half to two and a half hours before they get back.”
“We’ll start cleaning up soon…”
Ten minutes later…
“We’re home!”
“Aw, Mom!”
Fortunately, Mom was not disturbed by the lingering trail of art projects, laptops, and cocoa mugs (albeit still in use), and instead described their weekend and about the good food at the Dixieland Stampede… or something like that.
Then Dad broke out the soft pretzels to put in the toaster oven before driving with Francis over to the Eight’s house, heading out ten minutes after the party had already started, because Francis had forgotten the time.
And back home in the blasting winds of a cold first snow night in December…