re: #135 Anymouse

My wife drove to the village bar this morning (don’t judge, she was getting the time of the New Year’s Party). She came home on foot, saying she’d gotten the car stuck in front of the bar.

She managed to bury it in the only significant snowpile in front of the place (by trying to drive through it). Underneath was ice.

I started the car and briefly tried to rock it out. No joy. Since it’s a Smart and very light for a car, I put the car in reverse, jumped out and pushed against the driver’s side door pillar. The car climbed out of the snowpile to the rear; I jumped in and stopped the car so it wouldn’t plough through the front of the bar. Put the car in first gear and gunned it through the snowpile and into the street.

Home in about ten minutes (half of which was spent walking to the car from home). She greeted me with “couldn’t get it out, huh?” I pushed the panic alarm button on the keychain and the car horn started bleeting from the street next to our house, turned it off again, hung the keys up, smiled smugly.

Got a kiss. (::

Love it! I just pushed 6” off the windshields to put the wipers up because it’s something that New Englanders do that really makes no difference and by the time I was done there was another 1/4” on the windshield. It’s really coming down now, and I can hear limbs cracking off trees in the forest behind us.