My neighbors may be grungy and unemployed, but this morning I was very thankful for them. (These were NOT the noisy ones!) Here's the story:
It is unusual for my children to sleep past 7:30. I was counting on this fact and when they put forth their usual cries this morning, I was not too concerned about the time. I stayed in bed a few more minutes even. When I finally got around to putting on my glasses, I gasped! The clock said 8:26!! Yikes! We were due at my friend's house at nine to drop off kiddos then head to class in time to park and get to class. I hurried to get milk and snacks, put clothes on two little people and myself and, rather than brushing my sleep-tousled hair, I put on a stocking cap.
At last, at last we were all buckled in the car. I congratulated myself. The clock read 8:50. Amazing. Curly Miss had thrown a rather spectacular fit and Little Mister had been very, very wet. In spit of all that, I still might make it on time.
The snow in the driveway looked piled higher than ever. The lawn held over a foot of snow and the banks on either side of the driveway were even higher. Not only that, but the driveway itself held enough snow that the muffler made a scraping trail in it. With my children in the back seat and the heater beginning to warm, I rolled down my window in order to see behind me, since the back window was covered with snow and steam. Backing down the long cul-de-sac, I prayed I would not hit the cars parked along the arrow way. Instead the opposite happened. I misjudged the angle and backed onto the grass, through the deep, soft snowbank and suddenly the wheels began to spin. Frantically I tried going back forward to try again. Nope. I was really and truly stuck. Now the clock read 8:55. My class began at 9:30.
Then the first miracle happened. One of the neighbors came out of her mother's trailer and headed toward her car. She visited daily to take care of her elderly mother and now was headed out. She saw my tires spinning and immediately offered to help. I was surprised. If we'd lived in a nice house in a fancy subdivision, no one would have been around; they would have all been at work. Even if they had been home, the likelihood of them offering help would have been slim. But here, people seems to appear like magic. The first gal brought sand; a second neighbor appeared with a shovel. Shortly a third appeared and offered a strong back to push. In ten minutes my car was dug out and pushed off the curb where it had high-centered.
Gratefully, I thanked my rescuers and headed toward my friend's house. I dropped off the kids and headed toward campus at 9:15. Then came the second miracle. I called Hubby and told him my woes. At my request he walked up the hill from work to park my car for me. With the valet service, I pulled up in front of my building at 9:31 and walked right inside. I attended my class, listened to the unkempt graduate student who would be my teacher. He looked all of about 24, had a lip full of snuff and wore a faded hoodie with the name of a rock band emblazoned on the front. I decided I did not care as long as he taught me Calculus.
After class, I treated myself to Starbuck's and even got one for Hubby in payment for the valet service. I stopped by one of the Preschools I had been thinking of sending Curly to, then my friend fed us polenta for lunch and we chatted before heading home to naptime. I almost feel like I conquered the fates of the Universe in getting to class today. They had all conspired to keep me home. First my regular sitter-friend, K, was out of town. Then Curly barely recovered from her fever. Then the sleeping in too late and the snowbank. I felt as though I would never have gotten there but for a sheer act of will. I half resented the carefree students who had rolled out of their dorm beds and walked across campus. They had no idea what I'd gone through to get there. So it goes.