Yesterday’s opening salvo warned me it was going to be one of those days. In the spirit of self-care and celebrating me on Valentine’s Day, I searched for inspiration. It arrived as an email from Starbucks offering me 50% off my Starbucks® delivery order on Uber Eats, up to $10. Perfect. I settled on the Coffee Traveler filled with 96 fluid ounces of Blonde Roast and a Bacon, Gouda, and Egg Sandwich. Yes, I am the only coffee drinker in the house, but 96 oz would have been a welcome refresher. Except, the SENDLOVE coupon code didn’t work. I tried everything, but @Starbucks doesn’t love me. I canceled the order, brewed my usual everyday coffee, and headed out to shovel snow.
Our daytime high of 3 degrees, a -20 wind chill, and a forecast of 8-12 beginning Sunday evening, it was now or never. Time to eliminate the 3-4 inches on the drive and start and defrost the icy automobile. Everything was running smoothly. My fingers grew numb from the bitter conditions, and I wrangled on my second set of gloves. Too bad I didn’t remember to wear another pair of pants. But a few minutes sitting in the car warmed me enough to attempt finishing the last portion of the job.
That’s when it happened. For the record, I am a frequent faller professional. Please do not intentionally try this at home or anywhere else. My warm foot struck a patch of ice hidden under the snow. Both feet sailed behind me, and instinct flung the shovel down the driveway far from self-harm’s way. I assumed the skydiving banana position, head up, chin up, arms outstretched, and my feet – well, they were already flying in the air. And relax. Bam. My body hit rock-solid frozen cement, cushioned by an oh so soft and downy bed of snow and the bulky woolen coat. It’s a move I call the Reverse Snow Angel.
I lay motionless. My face hovered centimeters above the layered snow, as did my hands. I inhaled, followed by an exhale. A mental examination revealed my right knee had kissed the pavement. Whether because of the cold or maybe something likely to result in a bruise, the stinging sensation would need time to access. Like Sandra Bullock in “Miss Congeniality” with her “Mustang Sally” high heels and her slinky blue dress, I rose and shook it off. “I’m fine. I’m cool. I’m good.” I waved to my neighbors and took a bow. Wait. What do you mean the cameras weren’t rolling? Take two? Where is my stunt double? Instead, I finished shoveling.
Inside, re-acclimating to the warmth, I decided I had earned a glass of wine. A 2010 Castello Di Bossi Berardo Chianti Classico Riserva made my cut. I cleaned a goblet, and as I prepared to extract the cork, it snapped in half in the bottle’s neck. Not to worry, I’ve trained for this too.
How do you celebrate challenging days?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer