Frozen Cars

So, as you might have noticed much of the U.S. has had an ice cube put down it's back, and in it's gloves, and shoes...almost like an ice bath, or in some places an ice shower. It is cold outside, quite cold. And sunny. Ah, if only it would snow again, but alas the weather man tells me that a High Pressure is parked above us and is planning on staying a while. Now, this is all well and good seeing as I don't mind the cold too much, but my car seems to disagree.

This morning found me getting ready to head back up to school after a glorious long weekend; getting school books/notebooks/instruments gathered, getting dressed, re-curling a few pieces of hair (I hardly ever do anything more with my hair than wash it, let it dry, and ponytail/bun it...unless I get bored or "just feel like it"--the latter applied last night), feeding the animals, turning the ignition to my car... "grumblegrumblegrumble," says my car. "Uh-oh," says my me. I scrape off my frosty windows and try again. "grumblegrumbleGRUM-blegrumble," says my car. I head back inside and thaw my fingers (I am so grateful I have a warm house to come back inside to with warm running water!!).

I try again in a half hour, "GRUmblegrumblegrumble." Another half hour, "grumblegrumble." I look at the sun, now risen and spreading its mocking "warmth" and then to my car. Poor car. I eat some toast (doubles as comfort food and breakfast!). I have now missed my first two classes, but those I can be forgiven for missing. My last class is not so kind about absences, band. I am not worried though. I know that my car will warm up soon and try again, "grumbleGRumBLEgrumblegrumblegrumble." Always turning, almost catching, always missing. Each time my classical radio station chimes in its cello concerto, flute descant, or violin discussion as if to comfort the strains of my car and to pat it on the hood. I listen for a minute, watch my frozen breath fog up the windshield and turn the key again, "grumblegrumblegrumblegrumble."

I come back inside and write my band professor an e-mail, "Car is frozen, might not make it to class..."

The cats are happy that I haven't left them yet as they have all managed to sneak back inside. I am starting to think that my car would have liked to do the same, and feel sorry for it, the cold sun its only defroster. No drip-dripping from the icicles hanging off the house even though the sun is now directly overhead, perhaps the warmest part of the day and now missing half of band.

I pass the bathroom and spot the curling iron that I left out to cool and decide to put it away only to find that when I had switched it "off" I had actually only switched it to "low." I switch it off, really off this time, and pause a moment and wonder what might have happened if my car had started the first time and I had left with the iron still on and hot. I say a silent prayer of gratitude and know that there are guardian angels watching over me and my family. A day of missed classes can be made up so much easier than what might have been had I not missed them. I am grateful for slushy automobile fluids!