A couple of days ago, I made a comment on Facebook that basically alluded to the fact that snow is not a big deal.
Since I am now living in northeast Ohio, I am an expert at driving in the snow, shoveling snow, walking uphill both ways in the snow, etc.
And then yesterday?
Yesterday when I got stuck an HOUR from home?
And had to have Michael come get me?
Yesterday I ate my words. And they tasted like crow.
I was headed to a friend's house for a playdate. We had communicated in the morning, acknowledged that there was snow on the ground, but that the roads were looking pretty good, so I would go ahead and go to her house, then take Charlotte to the doctor for one of many vaccinations. As I left Kent, the roads weren't bad. Then I turned off of 43, and it pretty much went downhill from there. The road kept getting worse and worse, and there was NO WHERE TO TURN AROUND. I finally, after probably 10 miles, made it to 44, thinking that this road would be better. But it wasn't. I was still 20 miles from my friend's house, and was already late due to slow driving, so I called her to cancel. I figured I would stop at a gas station, use my phone to find a different (safer) way home, and all would be good. After a couple of miles (this was a pretty rural area) I found a place to turn around. I was going all of 25 miles per hour, so I tapped my breaks, and I'm not even joking when I say that I could NOT stop. I'm glad there was not a car in front of me, because my front bumper would have been planted firmly into their backside. So, I decided I would stop at an intersection where the roads were clearer. 11 MILES later, I finally got up the courage to stop. I skidded (again, I was only going probably 25 mph) to a stop, turned into the station, and promptly called Michael. My hands were shaking, tears in my eyes. I'm not sure what I wanted him to do. He was in a meeting, so I waited a couple of minutes for him to call back. When he did, I had moved (er, skidded) to another parking lot (the gas station guy was getting worried about me, I think!). Michael offered to come get me and the girls, and said we'd figure out what to do with the car later. I, for whatever reason, maybe to save my last shred of pride, said that I was fine. I had calmed down, I could do this. As we were talking, I tried to pull back out onto the road, and my car fishtailed. I pulled back into the parking lot, planted my car firmly into a spot, and didn't move for 45 minutes until Michael came to get me. We switched the car seats to the van, he took the car, and I followed him in the van all the way back to his office, and then drove the rest of the way by myself.
So that snow? The snow that is no big deal because I'm an expert at driving in it? That snow that makes me say "meh"? That snow chewed me up and spit me out yesterday. Snow: 1, Sarah: 0
The pictures are from when we were waiting for Michael :) At least the girls had fun!