On the way home last night I ran into the Bump in the road. It is almost like a fixture on Savory Road. Every January there are three bumps that arise about a kilometer from our driveway. They seem to be where there are underground springs that freeze up and expand. The largest one covers the whole road from side to side and is about a foot high.
Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind: "They ought to do something about that bump." By now, I know I am on spiritually precarious ground when I use the word "They" in the context that some one else owns the problem. It's not like I don't have options. Slowing down to second gear adds about five seconds to the trip. Funny how five seconds can seem like a serious amount of time. Especially when I am in a hurry to get home and relax. Now there's a sentence. In a hurry to relax... I think a lot of problems I have seem to have a natural rhythm to them. Too fast and they can be jarring. The right pace and they are just a little bump in the road.
As it was, when I got to our upper driveway around 10 p.m. the 50 Kph winds had drifted it over with four foot packed drifts and I got completely cemented in, a couple of hundred yards from the house. It was a clear night, I was dressed appropriately, my snazzy hat light and touch light were working, and I enjoyed the walk. My side line fantasy about trekking towards ice station Zebra in a full blown arctic gale broken when my dog Xena came running out to show me the way home. Happy to see me.
And I wasn't in a hurry anymore.
Here I am this morning, digging out the truck with the skid steer....