Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Ice Ice, Baby

I am sticking to the idea of using song titles as post titles. It works for me.
About a month ago,Rod and I decided we would post an open invitation on Facebook to friends/family who were traveling up to, or down from Mt Hood on the weekends. We started doing it because we felt sorry for the long lines of people at the Thriftway store waiting to use their tiny  disgusting restroom, and figured people might rather stop by here. They could not only use the (clean) bathroom with no wait in line, but also stretch their legs, have a mocha, feed the fish, pet the horse, dog,and goats or whatever.

 So we posted it on up.

No comments. No likes. No nada.

  I blamed myself because that is how I roll.  It wasn't that bad; I just felt ostracized by the entire universe.
 No biggie.

Last week, I figured out that I inadvertently had  my settings on FB so that every update I made only went to two friends.
Neither of whom traveled to Mt Hood in the last month.

On the bright side, I kept my house cleaned up every weekend in case anyone stopped by.

How about a weather report? Are you on the edge of your seat? If you are, it is no doubt because you are going to make a run for it as soon as I pause for breath.

Well, we have rainy-snow falling on top of about 3 inches of snow which is covering about 3-4 inches of solid ice. Rain, snow, ice.
 It is the perfect trifecta of mountain weather.
On Friday afternoon, it was still only ice with rain falling steadily, so for some odd reason, Rod and I thought it would be a grand time for a hike. We went a bit further than usual, and I was congratulating myself on not being knocked over by the dogs,who chase each other with zero regard for anyone they might knock over, when I slipped on the ice.

 I didn't fall, but I did a spectacular dance move that most humans are not capable of, and which enabled me to keep my balance. Unfortunately, I twisted my knee in an inhuman direction.

 You'll be happy to know I didn't use a curse word, but did scream. This was not only to vent the pain volcano that used to be my knee, but to get Rod's attention.

"Are you okay, Bed-Pan?" He asked as he came  over. Yes, he calls me Bed-Pan sometimes. It is a nickname. Please, just let it go.

Well, I clearly wasn't okay as I couldn't put weight on my leg without making sounds that may have sounded like a wounded rabbit on the Discover Channel.
 I needed a Waaa-ambulance, Stat.
But we were in the woods and we had to hike back a mile. Do you know how long that Incredible Journey on the icy trail seemed? Soooooo looooooong.
Do you know how long it seemed to Rod as he had to listen to my groanings and complaints as tried stoically to help me back? Even loooooooonger.

Finally, we arrived back across the creek, so Rod could go get the ATV and return to pick me up.
I found a big snow bank and collapsed down on it. The rain  was falling into my face and eyes, but I couldn't feel it over the white-hot throbbing pain in my knee.

Cooper came over and laid down next to me and stared into my face. I told him, "Go on, Cooper. Go with Dad and get the ATV."
 I just wanted to lay there and die a cold death, at least that is what the waiting buzzard circling lazily  over head thought. ( I am not kidding about the buzzard)

Imagine him making snow angels on your head. Yes, he was smiling while he did it.
But Cooper wouldn't leave me, and just as I started to think maybe he wasn't such a bad dog after all,  he rolled over on his back and tried to make doggy snow angels. On my head.
And Lucy just watched.
Where was that buzzard, anyway?
Doesn't she look like she would go get help? She didn't.

Finally, Rod came back, packed me on the ATV, drove me home, wrapped my knee, put ice on it, gave me a couple Advil, made me a cappuccino and asked me to stop complaining. Fine.
I guess it was the least I could do.

I'm sure I have convinced you that you should stop by on your way on your way to Mt. Hood, and  take a dangerous hike on the ice.
We look forward to seeing you.
The house cleaning may be a bit of hit or miss, though.

 I'm not making any promises.

Post a Comment