This winter has apparently been the longest snowy period for Germany in 30 years.

Just my luck.

I have to say, out of the four seasons, winter is my least favourite.  Yes, I do enjoy the serene feeling of seeing nature tucked in by a fresh blanket of snow, and especially love how the trees droop with clumps of the fresh white stuff.

But the next day, I long for green grass and patio weather.

Yesterday was one of the heaviest snowfall days yet. I shoveled three times! And, even though it was snowing and blowing sideways, I went out anyway to visit a friend.  Must be that Canadian blood that doesn’t make me think twice about venturing out in the snow.  A few hours into the visit, when I looked outside and couldn’t see across the street, I decided maybe Little T and I should get ourselves home.

Thinking it was just after 5pm and there would likely be a lot of rush hour traffic on the main road, I decided to take the “back-way” home.  Perhaps I am still use to living in a country that is more than equipped to deal with wintery stormy weather.  It hit me, as I started sliding backwards down a hill, that maybe I’m naïve.  Suddenly three men in orange work gear circled my car tossing brown sand around my tires (you mean, these roads haven’t been salted yet? It’s been snowing all day, people!).  And then, still unable to get up the hill, two teenage girls got behind my car and pushed me up.  I rolled down the window to yell “Vielen Dank!” (thanks a lot!) but I don’t know if they heard me as I couldn’t stop, for fear of sliding into their parent’s van off to the side of the road in front of me.

Feeling a little panicked at this point, and Little T yelling out his usual “When will we be home?!” from the back, I started to wonder when myself.  As I approached the next village, seeing a huge lineup of cars waiting to go down the hill didn’t look too good.  And then, when I saw a woman with a box the size of a granola bar box whipping salt on the road, I knew it wasn’t good. 

Where are the salt trucks?

Where are the snow ploughs that line up in a diagonal line like they do on the 401?

Somehow, we made it down the hill (thank you granola salt lady!) and as I turned the corner I faced a huge back up of vehicles, mostly buses, which were stuck as they couldn’t get up the hill.  I whispered a prayer of gratitude for being in the opposite lane, and for ONCE not being on the bus.

“Mommy, when will we be home?!”

Well, the final obstacle was to drive up a rather long and curvy road to reach our home.  Trying to make my voice sound as normal as possible, I explained to Little T that we had to drive up this big hill, but with all the snow and ice, we may not be able to.

“What will happen then, Mommy?”

Mommy has no idea and doesn’t want to think about it, as the only way into our village is by going up long, windy roads. So, I decided not to respond.  Little T usually knows when I’m quiet, he better be quiet too.

Slowly, we started to climb the hill.  Seeing that the cars in front of us were still moving was a positive sign.  The line of cars coming down the hill were equally as slow, and the looks on the driver’s faces equally petrified.

As we reached the top, a voice yelled out from the back:

“You DID IT Mommy! You made it up the hill!!”

I felt like I just won an Oscar.

As we approached our driveway, I cursed myself for being lazy the last few days and not shoveling out our driveway (isn’t that what tires do? Just drive over the big snow bank?).  Luckily, I wiggled the car in and we were home at last.

All of this happening of course while Hubby is off on business in Brazil where the temperature is 30 degrees.  But, he assures me it has rained a lot.

Poor guy.