TOLE You to Tamp Down the Snow

   

Let me tell you a story about snow ... and about not listening to your husband ... and the consequences thereof.

The first time I came up to our new mountaintop land was in January 2008 after my husband had already bought it. So exciting! Our very own homestead! The place was under a blanket of beautiful, fresh (way deeper than I thought) snow. Stunning! I had grown up in Houston, Texas so snow was a new, delightful thing to me. Little did I know.

 My husband Butch, my stepson Jay and I came up to the property to have a proper look around. We were tickled to find an old, log miner's cabin that had yellowed scraps of newspaper on the walls dating back to 1911. There were also signatures and notes on the walls from people who had visited over the years, some as old as 1913. Very cool!

After exploring the cabin, we all decided to sit down and rest for a bit - the trek in here on snowshoes had been long and difficult. I realized that I needed to pee so I told the boys I was going outside to potty, please don't come out there. As I was leaving the cabin, my husband quietly tells me, "Tamp down the snow before you go pee." Huh? Ok, whatever ...... I go on my merry way, whistling, around to the side of the cabin to the small berm of snow where it had fallen off the roof.

 Now to paint a picture for those of you who aren't used to being where it's very cold, the attire is this: underwear, two pairs of long johns, an assortment of about 20 T-shirts (layering!), a sweater, jeans, two pairs of gloves, two pairs of wool socks and one pair of cotton ones, scarf, fluffy cute hat, big warm boots, coveralls and large, clumsy snowshoes. Unzip coveralls and pull down, then the jeans, long johns and well, you get the idea. I am bare from my knees to my stomach and it's freezing! So awful having to go potty when it's this cold. Pretty much the only time I wish I were a man.

 I look back at that little two foot high snow berm and (mysteriously) think, "Ah, that would be a good place to go." (???) Long clumsy snowshoes still on, I balance myself atop the berm and tell myself, "OK. Go. Before you freeze." As I am concentrating and admiring the view, waiting for my body to do its thing, I feel myself slowly tipping forward and have nothing to grab ahold of. I am thinking, "Well, when I hit the snow I'll just put my hands out and stop myself." Riiiiiiight. You see, I had NO IDEA how deep this snow was.

So, to my utter surprise, instead of stopping me, my hands go right through the snow and I keep going until my whole head then plunges into the snow (Face plant!) and guess what? My bare butt is up in the air. And I'm stuck. Lovely. My snowshoes are still firmly on top of the snow berm, making my feet higher than my head, thereby throwing off my balance and keeping me from lifting my head up. To add insult to injury, when my head hit the snow, I gasped - and hey, did you know you could choke on snow? I am stuck, choking, freezing and desperately need to get my head OUT of there.

Bare butt sticking up in air.

Pulling my hands out of the snow, I put them back on top of the snow and push. All that happens is that my hands go right back down into the snow and my head moves not one inch. I am still choking, can't breathe and

Bare butt is still in the air.

I am getting fairly alarmed at this point by a few things. First I am TERRIFIED that my 25 year old stepson is going to come out and see what all the commotion is (I can't do anything quietly.). Second, I am wondering what my face will look like after they deal with all the frostbite. Third, I am not only choking, I am now laughing because I can see how truly funny this looks. Kind of like an ostrich except for the sand part and no feathers on my butt. And last, I am FREEZING!

Bare butt STILL in air.

STILL haven't peed yet.

I finally realize that pushing myself up with my arms isn't going to work and that I am going to have to fall over in the snow just to get my head out. Still in the same position, actually having an argument with myself.

"But I don't WANT to fall over in the snow. It's COLD!"

"But you will suffocate and DIE here if you don't. Is this really how you want to be found dead? With your naked butt in the air and your head planted in snow?" (as funny as that would be).

"Well, no. Of course not but I'll be laying semi-naked in the snow and it's just so miserable."

"Just DO IT!"

So, over I go and oh man, talk about COLD and gasping! I am however relieved that my head is finally free even though I am still choking and laughing and making quite a ruckus. To my horror, I then realize that not only are my snowshoes hopelessly entangled but that I chose to fall over facing towards the door of the cabin where my bare butt is still completely visible. "Please God, don't let Jay come out here. We'll never be able to look each other in the eye again!" To get my snowshoes untangled takes quite an effort - bringing them up off the ground (better view of my rear!) and thrashing away, hoping that they will just LET GO.

STILL haven't peed.

"WHAT is going ON out there?"

"NOTHING! DON'T come out here!!" choke, hack

I finally get the shoes apart and lay there just exhausted for a moment. I manage to stand up, turn rear AWAY from front of cabin and notice that I have snow in my collar, under my shirts, in my sweater, coveralls, long johns and jeans. I then notice that my butt is now a very pretty shade of purplish red and quite numb. (What if some of it is frostbitten?! Is that going to make sitting down an issue??) I also realize that

I still haven't peed

and say, "Forget THAT!" I don't even bother to get all the snow out of my clothes before I put them back on. I just want to get dressed and inside the frigid cabin which is less frigid than outside. My hair is completely wet and hanging limply at my face. Dragging myself to the cabin door, I lean against it, looking a bit bedraggled, totally worn out, sighing loudly, and my sweet husband quietly says,

"TOLE you to tamp down the snow."

Monkey See NO Evil 🙈

Sigh..... it's time to go get water again, which isn't THAT big of a deal except for the fact that the road to our spring is pure ice and I just HATE driving on ice, especially since that road is steeply downhill from my house AND has about a 1000 foot drop off on the side. Luckily, that road doesn't turn to ice very often but when I complained about this scary situation to my husband Butch, he encouragingly said, "Shoot. You won't go far if you go over the edge. You'll hit a tree or boulder and stop, at some point. Heh heh."

 Well wow. I feel ALL better now, thanks!  

The last time I had to go get water with these same set of frozen circumstances, this is what I did: first, I groaned REAL loud and then prayed begging-style, for an all-expense paid trip to the Bahamas to magically appear in my email inbox. It didn't. Bah.

Pouting at the unfairness of life, I got everything ready to get our weekly water, chained up the truck, prayed for courage and started down the terrifying icy road and thought, "Hey wait a minute. I am GREAT at driving backwards. Even Butch says so. Maybe I should BACK all the way down there!" 

So, that's exactly what I did. I backed all the way down there. I've already mentioned that this road is twisty, turny, snowy, icy with a LONG, LONG drop off on one side. Since all I could see what was out of my rear view mirrors and since I had to concentrate so hard, I didn't have time to be afraid. And I wasn't! I got all the way down there with no problem, no sliding and no fear!! Ta DA!

When I bragged about the absolute genius way I handled that problem, it horrified everyone in my life. Some told me to never ever do that again or at least don't tell them about it if I did. Butch slapped his hand on his forehead and yelled, "Do I have to tie you to a CHAIR before I leave in the morning?!" 

 Hey, I'd rather slide out of control backwards than forwards. For some reason. Hmmm... That's odd. Why did I feel that way?? Now that I thought about it, I guess I've always been the kind of person who if she can't SEE a problem - icy road, monster in the dark, dirty house - it's simply not there. I'm a hide-under-the-covers kind of gal. Hmmm......

Self-analyzation began.

I thought back to when I was little. My sisters and I were often alone when we were young because my poor mom had to work two jobs. When we'd hear a scary noise at night, I would immediately march to the closet and hide. My cute, tiny, blonde youngest sister who is impressively brave, always went searching for the cause of the noise. And I being the big sister, let her. Thankfully it was never anything bad but I still hid, each time. 

I then remembered the time I went rafting for the first time ever with my family in Montana in the spring when the rivers are swollen and full and rushing like mad. Where people die every year. There were eight of us in the boat, all ages, from five to eighty years old. Every single person in the boat was laughing and having fun. Except me. What was I doing? Putting my head down, eyes closed, not watching. Still having fun mind you, but I didn't want to SEE the froth and waves that were about to swallow us all up. (I have a picture to prove this btw. It's hilarious.) 

So. My self-introspection revealed that I prefer to calmly (bravely?) take what comes but I will do it with my eyes closed. I am apparently the personification of Monkey See No Evil.

I'm not necessarily afraid of dying, I just don't want to SEE it.

 Hence, driving backwards down the hill. It's not like you can control where you're going when you start sliding anyway, whether you're going forward OR backwards. I'll just go with it, not watch and slide till I stop. Somewhere. At some point.

Or hey, you know what? Maybe I'll just wait for Butch to get home and let HIM go get the water. Yeah, that's what I'll do! I'll even go with him.

But I'm not looking. 

~~~ The End ~~~

(Well, hopefully not!)