Back in Boston now.
Went to temple this morning for the last session of the year. It was lovely, peaceful, hopeful.
Until I got outside.
When I drove to the temple there was the littlest bittiest layer of snow on the ground--powdery and kind.
When I came out after the session it was inches thick, blowing and angry. I cleaned off my car and by the time I was done, it was snowed and icy again. I drove home, saying prayers in my head, hunched over, trying not to spin. At one point I got cut off by a snow plow, and honked my wimpy little Corolla horn. At another point I cut off an ambulance (the lights/sirens weren't on or anything), which, yeah, is really smart. The ambulance horn is not wussy: it's a growling roar.
I'm still getting used to this driving in the snow thing. Before we left for Christmas, we hadn't had ANY, aside from a gentle fluttering one Sunday, and a nonthreatening slush the day we left. And now, this nonsense.
But I made it! Here I am, home and cozy on my couch. Or as cozy as I can be, when our house is a house of non-insulated coldness.
Sam just called to tell me he was coming home, but instead told me he got in an accident. I gasped and felt my heart burst into top speed. Then he said he was calling from beyond the grave, as in, like, a joke. Isn't that SOOOO funny?