Everybody feels like they’ve been run over by a truck the day after Thanksgiving, right? It’s not necessary to line up at 4 am for bargains to be literally run over by humans in order to share in the misery. That, or we are just really efficient, feeling the pain without wasting the time in front of a big discount store. We all limped around the house like retired bull riders, once we were all eventually awake this morning. We grazed on leftovers and soaked in the hot tub, letting the bulk of the day drift by before attempting to go out in it.
We needed to brave a couple of stores, although we chose those without big crowds. The lines weren’t long at the closest hardware store come two o’clock this afternoon. It didn’t take us too long to pick up a new snow shovel and ice chipper. We zipped down to Boulder, on still-gnarly roads, for a quick trip to Pearl Street. My daughter got a touristy gift to take back to her best friend in California, and a tasty local treat to put in her work White Elephant gift exchange. We parked in a particularly sloped, slushy spot on the street rather than heading into a garage, and as full dark settled across the town, the three of us teamed up to push my little Ford out of it, into busy traffic. We found that it was a good thing that snow shovel was still in the car.
I stayed home while the Mr drove our daughter to the airport. I think I’d had quite enough of icy roads by that point. She arrived more than two hours before her flight, knowing how bad security was going to be today. While she sat at the gate, the snow picked up again, and she got to hang out even longer in the terminal. But last I heard she was boarded, and any minute now I’ll get the word that she’s back on the ground in her home state. I’m so glad I got several days with her this week. It was a solid visit, but it was over in a flash.
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