Snowbound?
Here in Salt Lake City a fat wallop of snow has arrived to smack everyone on the chin, and this on the year’s second heaviest travel day.It was just ten degrees here when our plane landed Thursday night and it’s still mighty chilly now. My girl Annie has been staying in the new-baby house all this time while I have been billeted in a motel so spartan its wee kitchen offers just two cups, two bowls, three each in the spoon-fork-knife department and maybe ¼ of an ounce of dishwashing liquid in a small foil packet.But hey the fridge works, sort of, and the toaster at least warms up your bread if it doesn’t exactly brown it and they say an actual Whole Foods lies just over yonder. So if it turns out I’m marooned here I guess I can always trudge over there in the my ridiculous old fur coat, brought along just in case. I look like the Abominable Snowman in it I know but I bought it 20 years ago both because it was seriously on sale and so I could have something warm to wrap my children in that Christmas when at my INSANE suggestion, we took the train from Boston Massachewsetts clear to Tampa F-L-A, chased the whole way down by a cold snap so severe it made black wilted spinach of all their lush vegetation.Glad I was for this coat on that train I can tell you, especially when in classic Amtrak style the cars went cold, the water in the johns all froze, and our kids began throwing up one after another on entering them, first at the smell of the unflushed waste and then at the sight of each other throwing up but let me not go there now. Instead let the God of All Travel shine his light on all those trying to get home safe today. Annie and I don’t fly ‘til tomorrow and I know I’ll be fine here even if the kids can’t come get me today in all these veils of white. That Whole Foods is just past a few dumpsters, across a right-of-way and through several hundred yards of parking lot where I can find a wealth of soy flour, and wheat bran, and kelp sprouts if there even is such a thing as kelp sprouts.
