The Race to Retrieve Our Life-Sustaining Staycation Survival Gear — Daily Quote
I think our staycation activities director is in cahoots with the Amazon driver. As predicted, snow fell for a full 24 hours, blanketing the world like a snow globe creation. Even the snowplows were reluctant to spoil the beauty. They delayed as long as possible and postponed our initial pass until after 10 am. Gray clouds were undeterred and attempted to erase all traces showing they had passed. The wind blew, keeping up its end of the bargain.
The Prime delivery trucks don’t seem to notice and arrived earlier than his regular 4–5 pm time slot. He was in a rush, and instead of trudging through 6 inches of snow (10 where it drifted), he opted to perch the parcels precariously on top of the mailbox. Then he sped off around the corner. The wind seized a playful opportunity and knocked them into the street. The cruise director shrieked and hurried her staycation guests into their winter attire. It was time for another game. Into each mittened and gloved hand, she placed a shovel. She issued curt, simple rules. The first person completing a clear path down the driveway to retrieve the packages would win. Then, adding urgency and higher stakes to the heated competition, she pointed to flashing lights on the next block that were headed in our direction. “Hurry. Save the little darlings,” she screamed, and the race began.
It was a nail bitter. Would we recover the prize? Or would the plows scoop them from the snowy pavement and bury them under a mountain of salt-encrusted, ice-coated yuck? Or worse yet, would they crush them into oblivion, leaving the contents unfit for human consumption? I had insider information — you see. A rare bird I know ordered a life-sustaining, snowmageddon survival kit filled with chai tea, hot cocoa, and handcrafted chocolates. I could not stand by and condemn my sweet treats the indignity of being smashed into smithereens.
I shoveled like a madwoman on a mission and saved my survival gear. Intrepid writer 1, Snowplows 0. Yes, there was a victory dance in the endzone. Fine me. As a bonus, we cleared the drive of white stuff with record-breaking speed and without whining. Inside, our Copacabana Lounge bartender concocted a batch of warm drinks for rosy-cheeked patrons. He topped my mug with an extra float to take the chill away. The umbrella was a thoughtful touch too.
How did you spend your snow day?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer