(Originally posted Monday, Dec. 11, 2006) This was the scene out my window every year. Although most everybody else I know/knew in western NY just love to go out and frolic in the snowy weather, I preferred to stay in cuz it was COLD out there. I still talk to people who say, "Oh, I love the cold". Good for them. It's just not for me, and never has been, even when I was younger.
The only way I can remember liking snow was when I might go out for rides in a warm car, stuff like that.
I know how to drive in deep snow. I remember having to drive one morning before the snow plows went through, and having to guess where the road was, hoping not to drive into a ditch. I made it okay.
I know my Aunt Bev hates the cold, too, but it's mostly my fault. She and I are only 20 days apart. (Imagine your Mom and Grandmother both being pregnant at the same time. I 'won', so I'm older. She holds every one of those 20 days over my head..."You're OLD". So, I don't call her Aunt, either.)
Well, anywaze...Yeah, it's kinda my fault Bev got her fingers frozen when we were wild and crazy teenagers. I had this nerdy boyfriend (Paul), who ended up being Bev's boyfriend later on. At the time, she was having dental work cuz, as she put it, her teeth were all "snaggle-toothed" and it made her chin jut way out, kinda lantern-jawed.
But, anyhow, because Paul got to drive his parents' car around, we three, Bev, Paul and I went on a lot of excursions together, summer and winter, which was fun.
One night, a few days before Christmas, Bev and Paul got the idea to buy some 'liquor' to celebrate the holidays. Oh sure...I was "innocent"...(I thought it was a great idea, too). Paul was 18, old enough to buy it, but we were only 16.
He came back out of the store with some "Triple Applejack"...a cheap wine, of sorts. It was pretty yucky tasting. Not sure what ol' Paul thought of it, but Bev pretty much liked the taste of it.
We had driven, in a snow storm, along a country road, then stopped so Bev could get out and 'potty'. By that time, she was pretty 'wasted'. I had to get out and help her over a snowbank, out of sight, to get her tight girdle down, so she could 'go', then try to reverse the procedure. The poor girl was roaring drunk, happily singing at the top of her lungs up into the icy black sky with its shiny stars staring down at our debacle as we staggered around in snow up to our thighs.
I had to sit her down on the edge of the snow bank and told her to fling her legs over the top of it, to get to the other side and back to the car.
She kept trying to flop them up, while repeating, "I just FLING my legs up over the shnow banKK...", but her legs wouldn't go.
She looked me earnestly in the eye and said, "I hope I don't throw up in my sleeve....ok, just FLING my leg UP over the shnow banKK", but it still didn't go.
"What do you mean, 'throw up in your sleeve!??" I asked.
"Kathy (another friend of ours) got drunk one time and didn't have anywhere to throw up, so she opened the cuff of her sleeve and threw up in it". Bleckkk.
"Well, that's not going to happen to you...you aren't going to do that...hold on, let me get Paul, so he can help me get you back into the car."
Once we got her back into the warm car, we took the bottle away from her, and got the car in motion.
We were starting to worry, cuz the storm had turned into a blizzard and visibility was getting bad. The car went a little ways up the slight hill, then the wheels started spinning. Paul tried backing the car back down the hill, but it slid into Bev's "shnowbankKK" and got stuck.
Oh Oh. Now what? This was before cell phones. This was WAY back. Bev was wearing a 'girdle', remember?
I said that I thought I remembered seeing the lights of a house not far from where we were, but it was sitting up a long driveway on a hill.
Paul, continued to try to spin us out of there with his Dad's car. He did manage to back us up into the ditch at the end of the driveway I'd seen.
And again, Now what?
Well, we could walk up to the house and call a tow truck to come and get us out. Paul, for sure, didn't dare call his parents. The alcohol and all. (and this was even way back before they 'carded' people) Still, his father wouldn't have appreciated we three 'nice' Church Kids having liquor...and in his car, no less.
Since Bev had gotten the bottle back again, with what little was left in it and was patting it and singing Christmas Carols, loudly, Paul and I talked over her, trying to figure out what to do. It was a long freezing walk, but we decided that he and I would trudge to the house that looked so warm with lights shining from the windows, and leave Bev in the warm car, bundled up, ...with her bottle, and we'd be RIGHT back. For her to just stay put! We'd be RIGHT back.
She said, "OKAYYYY".
The icy air blew right through our coats, freezing us.
We finally made it to the house and knocked on the door. A nice lady answered and brought us right inside. We put on our best Sunday School manners and demure politeness and explained that our car was stuck at the end of their driveway, and that my aunt was staying warm in the car waiting for us.
Well, of course she let Paul make a phone call, then insisted on making us some tea to warm us up from that walk up the hill.
Her house was all pretty; cozy and quiet, and she was so sweet.
I daintily picked up the china cup, making sure to keep my little pinky finger up and was about to take my first sip, when suddenly there was a thundering pounding on the back door!
The lady looked shocked and embarrassed in front of her 'genteel' guests and asked no-one in particular, "What...who in the world is that??", as she made her way toward the door.
Just as she got to the door, it flew open, loudly slamming into the hall wall.
The poor lady fell back against the same wall, shocked and horrified at the sight that just barged into her house!
There was Bev, hair frozen in a hundred different directions, wild-eyed, jaw jutted way out, exposing snaggled-teeth, as I'd never seen them before. She looked like an abominable snow monster! She was covered in snow and vomit was dripping out of her sleeve onto the lady's immaculately cleaned floor.
I stammered weakly, "Oh...it's my aunt."
The lady shrieked, "Your AUNT?!"
Bev wanted none of it...she pushed past the lady and said, "I just want to lay down on your red couch and throw up"
The lady sprang at her, wailing, "Noooo, that's my new couch, I just got that as an early Christmas present!"
Poor Bev. Poor lady. Bev's fingers were about frozen. I don't know what happened to her gloves...probably lost in a shnow bankK on the way up the hill. She'd gotten tired of waiting, she said. She nearly froze, too, on the way up the hill, then when she got there, she looked in the window and saw us sitting there all warm and cozy having tea.
She was really ticked. She still is til this day, even tho' she managed to forgive us.
Eventually, the tow truck came and pulled us out. I don't know if Paul ever told his Dad what happened.
If you ask Bev, she'll tell you how much she still gags whenever she hears the words, "Triple Applejack", and how it's my fault...and Paul's that she hates the cold, cuz of us.
(We never did anything like that again...just so you know, and I still hate the cold cuz it's COLD!!)
