Tuesday, January 9, 2018


Snow, Frigid Air, and Cabin Fever
The past week of frigid below zero temperatures, strong winds, and heavy coatings of snow are finally over, at least for now. Several days of shoveling out my drive and clearing my walkway are now behind me.
I’ve been having a problem with the manifold on my 2011 Chevrolet Malibu. The noise of the exhaust leak has been slowly increasing. Lately the car’s exhaust has allowed fumes to creep into the car. I made an appointment to repair it and took it to my mechanic. I dropped it off Monday evening so he would have it early. He could start the job after the snow and slop melted from the chassis and the underside. I was thankful that my son-in-law James Prinkey was able to collect me from the garage and drop me off at home. Because I hadn’t driven my car for several days, the snow gathered beneath it and a low snow pile at the edge of the road caused the wheels spun. I had to rock forward and back before escaping my drive and out onto the highway.
At home with no car, I felt even more isolated and trapped inside. It intensified my feelings of cabin fever, especially after the week of confining winter weather. One good thing about having no vehicle in the driveway is that I could shovel away the snow more thoroughly. After my fall in 2015 receiving two intracranial bleeds, I had no desire to repeat it.
Tuesday afternoon, my daughter Anna Prinkey collected me at my home and drove me to the garage to claim my car again. I shared the ride to the garage with their German Shepherd Rocky. Rocky growled when I climbed into the front seat until he recognized me. I pity anyone that would try to hurt Anna with Rocky around.
I was running low of milk and stopped at the Whoa Nellie Dairy on my way home. They have whole milk, chocolate milk, and fresh eggs, at their local farm business.
I was pleased and surprised as the sun dropped lower in the sky, sending its light to shine on the snow and the trees. Ice still clung to the branches and trunks of the trees. The light danced in the branches, Silver and crystal fingers reached into the scantily clad cloud and blue sky.

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