Scribblings

Each year I find myself more conflicted

I love it when it snows. I love it even more when it snows and I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything but sit in my chair and watch white fluff fall from the sky.

But each year driving in those white out conditions gets harder and each year it seems that Anchorage gets a little slower in plowing the roads so that there is some semblance of a lane available to the human eye.

On Thursday, amidst the first real snow of our season, I drove to my doctor’s office. My appointment was after 11 AM so it’s not as if the city had not had the time to clear at least the major roads. I spent a good deal of that drive white knuckling it as the snow blowing up from the car in front of me totally obscured that car so that all I saw was white. When I wanted to change lanes to get into a right hand turn lane, it was impossible to see where that lane was until someone zoomed by me ON THE RIGHT and I realized I wasn’t in a lane at all. But then, neither were the four cars in front of me.

Yep, when I was young, I considered that kind of driving an adventure. Now, not so much. I love the snow but I’m already longing for the lanes of spring.