Plans A and B
The air is still, the trees are too weighted down to rustle in the cold. There are no sounds. There’s no traffic; no construction, no barking dogs. Even the waterfalls are still. Those who could leave ahead of the storm did. But those who are snowed in, are, well, snowed in. Now we know why folks rushed out for milk and bread last week.
Everyone will have a story. My husband’s story began the afternoon the snow started. On a heavily used local road, with the snow just starting, the car in front of him spun out. He stopped his car to wait for that car to get control. Meanwhile, his own stopped car slid sideways off the sloped road crashing into the guardrail.
My story is when there is snow or ice we can’t use our steep, curved driveway which was already covered in the first minutes of the storm. The problem was that my books and equipment for the weekend were in the garage. I had to load my car which was sitting up at the road. I did manage to get to my event this weekend in Yemassee, SC, and watched this snow mess happening at home on my facebook. We paid close attention to road conditions on Sunday. We made it home safely in time for Downton Abbey.
Our cars are both up at the road now, one buried by the snow plow, the other not sure whether it’s on the road or not. Buddy and I both need a Plan B. He needs to figure out how to take care of his personal business with his body buried in the snow. I need to figure out how to load the car, once again. I had planned to get a haircut today, get dog food, then leave for Georgia. Hair cut shop and dog food store are closed. I have books in the garage for school visits in Georgia. I need Plan B, or a sled.
Sometimes Plan Bs turn out to be the better plan. But, in the long run, what difference does it make? The disruption comes and goes, life goes on. We remember our story from “that day” whether it was the Snow Storm of 2016, or any other extreme day of hurricane, or presidential assassination. Some things we always remember. But in our memory we don’t feel the cold or the disappointment. It happened, we lived through it, and it’s a memory.
I try to keep those Plan As in perspective. This weekend I had help with that. While I was worrying about how to get down my driveway, a 58 year-old Cavalry reenactor from NC, clutched his chest, fell off his horse and died at the event. Reenactors in his unit included the EMS Captain of the county, a surgeon, an ER nurse, and several others who performed CPR. Plan A is readiness for emergencies.
It’s always good to have a Plan B, but sometimes it’s just not that important. Maybe just waiting in the quietude of Plan A, making that memory, is just as workable. It’s usually not a matter of life and death. I can wait another day for a haircut. I’ll spend the day with Dave; his office is closed. I’ll make banana bread. That’s never been a Plan A. Years from now he might remember that winter storm when I made banana bread, and we quietly lived through it. Maybe it’s the day I’ve needed to start a new book. It’s very quiet.