Grrr.... This snow is getting too much for me this winter. I am trying to be patient because December was pretty warm but Jan/Feb is really bad. We have had too many inches of snow already. Most importantly, I have become stuck in my truck twice already. This afternoon I was coming home and driving slowly because the roads were icy. There was no snow coming down but the wind blew really hard and the snow drifted over to the roads. Hence the word, snowdrifts. I was fine until I was turning into my driveway. The snow had drifted from the sides of the road to the middle of my driveway. It was higher enough to catch onto my axle so that even having 4-wheel drive did not help. I called my male friends but no one was home. So, being the pioneering lady that I am, I dressed up warmly and took my shovel and went to move the snow from under my truck. Then I started the truck and tried reversing/forwarding it. It would not move. Back I went into the snow, and dug around the wheels and under the front axle. I saw parts of my truck that I had never seen before--all those heavy rusted metal parts! Yike! I had to go into the house to warm up a little. Then back I went to dig around, pondering all the while about my wisdom in choosing to live out in the country. I ignored the cars passing by, pretending that I were an old hand at this. After all, I have been living out here for about 9 years. Finally, after several attempts of shoveling snow, and starting the truck up and trying to move it, it finally groaned and inched forwarded. Yes! Please continue moving! Yes! Yes! Hooray! The truck moved and slided a little, of course, but it slowly moved in the direction of the garage. It wanted the warmth of the garage and it wanted to stay there.

Do you know that my hood (bonnet to those of you who speak the Queen's English) is frozen and I have not been able to open it to check my oil? Hopefully, the weather will warm up soon enough. If not, I will take it in to the shop and have them change my oil!

One of the things that used to bother me about the way English is used here is the fact that auto repair shops that fix damaged cars are called body shops. I found it really difficult to not say, "Excuse me, would you fix my body so that it is the way it was 30 years ago!" "What! You mean to tell me that you cannot fix my body! You can only fix my truck if there is any physical damage!" "Why do you call it "body" then?" "How can a car have a body?"

After several years of puzzling over this, I decided that life is too short and that I should just accept my body as it is.