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Backyard Snow Saturday

The plan for today was to meet Karl halfway, at 2 p.m., to pick up the grandkids.

I, however, had been watching the weather (as I tend to do) over the past couple of days and could not help noticing that the meteorologists were predicting snow for today. Not a lot of snow — one to two inches — but enough to render the roads slick enough that anyone who happened to be out driving on them was also running the risk of sliding off into a ditch.

Not exactly my favorite way to spend a Saturday.

So, I called The Lovely yesterday afternoon to tell her about it. And she didn’t seem all that concerned.

“Well, the main roads should be OK, right?” she said.

“Well, yes,” I replied. “I’m sure they’ll have them plowed and salted and what-not.”

“So we should be OK driving on them,” she said.

“Well, yes,” I replied.

The thing is, however, I knew full well that I would be the one driving on them — probably while she napped!

“Well, then, we’ll just plan on picking up the kids at 2 o’clock.”

I wasn’t annoyed, but I really didn’t want to spend a single minute of my Saturday driving on the snow. On a highway or interstate. (I’m quite OK driving on snow-covered side streets here in my little town.)

Mostly, though, I didn’t want to deal with any pouting that might take place if we were in fact unable to pick up the grandkids today … on the grandkids’ part or, more importantly, The Lovely’s!

Fortunately, she called me back around 5 p.m. yesterday.

“I think we’ll go ahead and pick up the kids tonight,” she said.

“Ah,” I replied. “So, did you talk to Karl? Did you turn on The Weather Channel? Did you finally decide that I might know what I was talking about?”

“Well, actually,” she began, “I was at CVS, and some lady said it was supposed to snow tomorrow.”

We go into this restaurant, and after we find Debra and Karen at a table, I realize that Catie Curtis* is performing. So between songs, I troddle** over to where Catie is sitting on a bar stool with her guitar in her hands, and I tell her that I first heard her song “Dandelion” on a mix CD from a girl I once knew. (I try text-messaging the girl almost as soon as I see that Catie is singing here tonight!)

Then some people in the restaurant decide they are musicians, too, so they play/sing a song, and Catie waits patiently until they are finished, then she starts another song — and a guy in the corner is sorta playing his harmonica, right along with Catie’s song. And Catie’s so cool, she doesn’t seem to mind.

By the time she is midway through her next song, I decide I need my camera so I can take some “concert pictures,” so I leave, but first I have to find my keys, which I have left beside a bush near the first floor of the hotel. This search entails some sort of mini-quest through the hotel, and eventually I get some help from some bouncers/bellhops — except for one of them, who is especially rude, so I grab him by the neck and bite him (hard) on the left ear and tell him he needs to be nicer because next time, his demeanor (sp?) could be the difference between sending a guest into a rage (!!) or helping her have a much better day.

(I wake up with “100 Miles” in my head.)

* — Not Katie Couric. And speaking of her: What’s up with her face these days? She seemed so much … softer back on The Today Show, but now … I don’t know, it’s like her eyebrows have this scary arch or something to them (Uncle Leo?!), and I’m sorta frightened when I look at her!

** — That’s Leslie’s word. A combination of a “trot” and a “waddle.” Invented sometime during our days at EIU. Mostly used in this context: “I troddled off to class” or “After we drank a couple of pitchers of beer at Marty’s, we troddled over to Ike’s.”

February 2007

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