Don’t Rain ( or Snow or Hail ) on my Parade

Posted on March 18, 2015 under Storytelling with 2 comments

The grocery store was completely sold out

“Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain.”

Fire and Rain – James Taylor

I’ve also seen freezing rain, and sleet … and hail … and ice pellets.  I have endured the polar vortex and have felt warm breezes.  I have seen blinding snow and brilliant sunshine.  Sometimes I have experienced all of these things in the same day, and occasionally within the same hour.  Welcome to the winter from hell.

Please give us a break, Mother Nature and deliver us an old fashioned winter.  You know the kind I mean.  Snow arrives in December.  The temperature is moderately cold and remains that way until spring.  Most days are sunny enough that you can hang a load or two of wash on the clothesline.  You can slip on cross country skis or snowshoes and enjoy a walk in the woods.  You and the kids are rarely sick.  And, if you happen to fall, it is because someone has knocked you down playing street hockey or you’ve enjoyed yourself too much at the pub.  Not because the sidewalk is wearing 6 inches of glare ice.

Yes, by all accounts, it has been a wicked winter.  The strange combination of weather has wreaked havoc.  Stores have routinely run out of the staples like shovels, scrapers, and snow blowers… and potato chips.  It’s hard to find salt and sand for ice removal, and people have even been running out of the pellets and hard wood that they need to keep their houses warm.  Some adventurous sorts have resorted to burning rye as a substitute.  Back in the good old days we drank rye to keep the body’s temperature regulated.

The wild temperature changes have caused a buildup of ice that have turned most streets into rutted tracks that are difficult to navigate without tearing off the undercarriage of your vehicle.  And the simple art of walking now requires an acute understanding of physics in order to stay upright.

The emergency departments at local hospitals are as busy as a Tim Horton’s drive thru during the “roll up the rim” contest, dealing with fractures and concussions as the result of falls on the ice.

Our parent’s and grandparent’s generations were a resourceful lot.  They didn’t have the modern conveniences that we enjoy today and instead were forced to come up with innovative solutions.  They had elixirs and concoctions to deal with just about any malady.  They could fix what ailed you and, when push came to shove, they could figure out a remedy to just about any situation.

So, what do you do when you have run out of salt and sand … and patience?

I was chatting with a friend at the mall the other day.  He lives in a rural neighborhood where back roads have become skating rinks.  Trying to get down an icy driveway is every bit as challenging as trying to ascend one.  He was telling me that, having run out of traditional commercial salt and sand, he remembered what his mother had told him many years ago.  “When all else fails, use kitty litter for traction on ice.”  And not just any kitty litter, apparently.  It has to be the “non-clumping” variety.  Having had three cats, I am quite familiar with the subtle distinctions when it comes to litter.  Trial and error taught us that, when exposed to the elements, “clumping” litter will become like slippery porridge; providing no traction and a heck of a mess to clean up.

Well, the proof is in the pudding and, much to the dismay of their cat; the kitty litter was spread over the driveway.  It produced instant results; too bad there wasn’t enough for the road as well.  Until it was safe to drive to town to stock up on essentials, the family feline had to suffer the indignity of a less than pristine litter box.

I’m thinking about getting my seed broadcaster out of the shed and filling it with kitty litter.  As I make my way through ice laden streets and sidewalks I will push it in front of me, making a gritty path for all who follow.

If you see an old guy pushing what looks like a walker, with a bunch of cats following behind, it’ll probably be me – your new Pied Piper.

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