Watch the roads
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And with age, comes wisdom. Or experience, at least. This next anecdote is offered third hand. As in, I wasn’t there, but I heard from someone else.
The afternoon was wet, and around suppertime the rain drops moved to white pellets. You know, the sort that stay on your front steps, making the walking into a challenge. There were supper reservations, a half hour away, and so a departure with a decision to be especially careful. About five minutes into the trip, a decision was made. This wasn’t going to improve before tomorrow, and that layer of water on the road was going to solidify. Turn to ice. Make the drive into an invitation to slide sideways and go into the ditch. Abort. Even the girl at the local store had given her opinion, with a lot less experience. “Wouldn’t want to go far in that mess”.
Friday moved from a quiet meal, in good company to leftovers in tehe fridge, at home. There was TV. You see, anyone with a bit of Canadian driving experience realizes that things fall apart, quickly, once we move into winter. And I don’t care about that suggested date on the kitchen calendar. It will improve over the next few months. Except for real storms. But the start of the driving season is a reminder that we share our roads with precipitation. Those big trucks with the load of sand and big plows are purchased because we need them. This is not a photo op. Something the summer tourists should see, at least once, before they assume that summer is eternal.
