The weather outside is not delightful in the least. 

It is winter in Central Oregon.  It’s not like the west side of the state that panics at the first sign of a flake.  That entire area basically shuts down any time the snow accumulation can be measured in centimeters. 

A lot of people relocated to Central Oregon last summer.  I can only imagine their confusion as they try to navigate the traffic circles here in their Volkswagens and Mini Coopers.  Driving a Mini in Central Oregon makes about as much sense as owning a Hummer in San Diego.  Unless you’re planning on encountering extraordinary speed bumps in the Target parking lot, it’s really quite unnecessary and makes it look like you are very insecure about something.

Yes, we are used to snow but in the last week it has dumped about a foot or more in and around my neighborhood.  I say “my neighborhood” because we are about 200 feet higher in altitude than downtown Bend. 

I stopped counting how many times I have cleared the driveway.  Yesterday alone I did it four times.  You can no longer see the front door of my house from the road because of the stacks of snow blocking the view.  When I scoop up a shovel of snow now, I have to hold it over my head and pray for a stiff breeze to blow it off. 

My dogs are forlorn.  When I let them out to do their business, they look up at me with mournful eyes asking me where I put their grass.  I tell them it has gone to live with Jesus.

I tried to walk the dogs on Monday.  We slipped and slid around the neighborhood and while it was exciting and we did make excellent time, it was a little hard on the nerves.  I, being the very stupid person I am, thought that once we got to the main road, it would be easier.

The main road had been bladed and was in very good condition.  Unfortunately, the snow that had previously covered the main road had been piled on the sidewalk.  We tried to walk on it but we sank.  I would say that as of Monday, there was a good foot and a half of snow there.  Neither one of my dogs is a foot and half high.  I tried stacking them on top of each other but you wouldn’t believe how uncooperative they were.

Yesterday the driving experience was frightening at times.  On many occasions, in front of my children and other occupants of the car, I used every cuss word I know.  I know them all as well as the meaning of most.  There is nothing that makes you feel more impotent than sitting in a car that is sliding downhill backwards without your permission. 

Every task is harder in the snow.  The sight of shoppers pushing full grocery carts across iced-over parking lot leaves personal-injury attorneys and chiropractors salivating not to mention greatly increasing the sales of extra-absorbent Depends.

My children are quite sure I am the meanest mother on the planet because I have made them attend school every day this week.  They assure me that they are the only students in their classrooms and that the teachers spend the entire time bemoaning the fact that they had to come to work that day. 

They have no problem walking into the school because of their overwhelming anger at being there.  This anger is so intense; it increases their body temperatures and melts the snow within a three-foot radius of them clearing the way.  Heat-seeking missiles would have no problem finding them.  Leaving the school is another matter.

Earlier this week I parked in my usual spot.  My daughter scrambled across the snow-covered quad and then gently tiptoed through the drifts to get to my car.  She was frozen and had wet feet and was angry that her brother was taking so long to get to the car. 

My son, coolly and calmly, strode across the expanse between the school and my car and then boldly navigated through the deep snow in a masculine manner.

How deep?  Judging by the expression on his face and the high squeak that squealed out of his mouth, I would gauge the snow depth to be about crotch-high.  I could not help but laugh uncontrollably to the point that I was forced into a potty emergency and if I had been of the male persuasion, I could have been able to “write” the Declaration of Independence in the snow.  I’m pretty sure my son left his “mark” at the snow-mountain apex.

There’s another storm system coming into the area this afternoon.  Pray for us and if you have any extra-absorbent Depends; send ‘em Fed Ex.