...

I GOT TO THE BOTTOM OF IT...radio blaring for courage. You'll have to remember, Dear Reader, I was driving down a steep hill yesterday--steep and winding, and only one day past a blizzard. I'd been pretty sure that gravity would get me to the bottom one way or another, but I didn't relish the thought of a sideways slide or a dangerous doolally. That's why I had crept down that hill like molasses in February.









When I got to the bottom, and relative safety, I thought I should show you my wonderful old covered bridge,







because it's very often that tourists and photographers with their fancy equipment are
pleased to find this picturesque gem,











and it's seldom adorned with more snow than it is today. (Notice how the sign says "BRIDGE"--for those who are wary of sheds atop roadways.)


Okay, so the drive down the hill wasn't all that much of a high-wire act, but I thought it enough for my day's allotment of nervous suspense. That's why I was startled to come upon another small heap of it further down the road.



The rest of the trip to the doctor's office was mostly on well-plowed roads, and there wasn't much traffic--only a handful of four-wheel drives and ubiquitous snowplows, as I had suspected. So after I left that medical office, when the sun had used up another hour tidying the roads, I took up the notion that I should be able to run one more errand. By way of main roads, of course. Oh, of course.

But......alas, as I passed the side road that I usually travel, it looked so free of snow--enticingly so. Hmm, I thought. Hmm, why not?

Perhaps because I'm a half-mile in, and, gulp, I sort of forgot that this hill was so steep. Well, I had no choice. Slow and steady thankfully took me to the top; and then, cresting the hill, I started down the other side. I focused on reaching the bottom. Except......uh, what?! Where was the bottom? Surely I wasn't seeing things properly. It looked for all the world like a sea of unplowed snow ahead! It looked for all the world as though some guy on a snowplow had gotten a call: My water broke!!


Or perhaps he was told he could quit at ten, and now it was already ten-0-two, for heaven's sake! Nope, no time to plow to the level and make a turn-around...or post a warning sign.

So there you have it, another few minutes of jittery rue while I backed my way over a slippery snow-covered alp (uh-huh). Then I repentantly made my way home by way of a long and circuitous route--taking care to avoid any road that might suddenly say:

The End!

...