January 22, 2012

Snowbound

I suppose it’s a common fantasy, to be snowbound with a beautiful woman in the middle of the wilderness.  Maybe a week of food, an expectation of being liberated just as this runs out “if the weather holds,” a working radio but no phone, and enough wood to keep the house warm for years.  As well, the continuing snowfall forces me to brave the outdoors and clear windows, vents, and roofs to make sure we’re safe.  On one of the days, maybe the second or third, my companion discovers a freezer that’s on all the time and holds a bunch of vegetables and meat for a stew---they look okay but we want to boil them hard to make sure they’re safe.  She’s also a chef who owns her own restaurant so the stew is really good.  Oh, and along side the freezer, she finds a bottle of champagne (I couldn’t figure out how strawberries and chocolate could be kept fresh and hidden for a couple of days---even fantasies have to have some realism).

So here I am, snowbound.  We got a foot of snow in 18 hours and I own the driveway from hell.  Until it gets plowed, presumably on Thursday, I’m stuck.  Maybe if I throw chains on, I could get out, but I doubt it.  Better wait until the plowing is finished.  It will be a full day.  And the spice is I don’t call to actually see when the driveway is going to be plowed.  Of course, this is the eighth winter I’ve had my driveway plowed by the same guy.  I pretty much know his pattern, so that spice has been dried and on the shelf for a while.  He’ll be here on Thursday.

There is wood---plenty of it.  And the wood stove is working great.  Moreover, as a modern wood stove, it has a glass window through which I can watch the flames and be hypnotized by them.  And the food does match the fantasy sequence---I only have one steak.  There’s plenty of wine, but in deference to my desperate situation, I don’t drink any.  However, I sit by the fire and read books I’ve downloaded on my Kindle.

As for females, the ones nearby are real dogs.  So are the other males.  Happily, I’m the alpha.  At least I think I am. 

And I pretty much have all the communication I want.  Aside from a working phone, if the need arises, I can stream porn off of the internet (it’s a great time to be alive!). 

With the dump, I do have to shovel snow to clear gates and make sure the yard is workable for the sled runs I hope to take when the storm clears.  That’s about two hours of moderate work, which is a good thing.  I sweated garlic in oil and pan broiled the steak in this.  Afterward, I dipped bread in the oil-garlic-steakbit mixture and ate that.  The work does mean I won’t gain any weight.

And as for things that I have to do with diligence during the storm, a sheet steel roof will clear itself via sliding and the snow on my deck is far less than anything I’ve seen in the past.  There’s no desperation there.  The one task that requires true diligence is making sure dog bowls don’t get buried.  I have spares, but I’d rather not lose any of the 21 in the yard.  I have to brave the outdoors periodically and “clear these” throughout the night.

The night is long (it IS midwinter in Montana) and it snows continuously.  But I do have a good stock of non-alcoholic beer to quench my thirst while I’m warming myself by the wood stove.  For the record, non-alcoholic beer has almost no semblance to real beer, but if you ignore this, it’s a pleasant carbonated beverage.   I digress.

Thursday Morning arrives:  I’ve made it.  Yup, the driveway was plowed and the dogbowls are still visible.  It takes me an hour to clear the truck and shovel the part of the driveway immediately behind it that didn’t get plowed, but I’m free.  And off to the market:  I’m making chili tonight, and, if you’re wondering, the dogs aren’t getting any of it.