When I was a kid, there was a popular commercial that proclaimed, “It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature!”
Well, apparently it’s also a bad idea to write a blog post entitled “Up Yours, Mother Nature.”
About two hours after I posted that, my kids got home from school and came rushing in the back door nearly bursting with excitement. “You need to go look at your car, Mom,” said the oldest. “Your car may be blocked in,” the middle one told me. “It’s awesome!” my youngest crowed.
I’m not exactly known for my ability to move quickly, but I think I broke a few personal speed records hauling ass to the driveway. And there it was: the slab of ice from the roof had finally come loose and fallen. At least six feet long, probably three or four feet thick at its deepest point; the “ice-jam” buildup that had been causing our roof to leak.
I don’t even want to try to estimate how much it weighed. Suffice it to say that the thing was huge. Massive. Enormous. Even when it broke into chunks on impact, the chunks it left probably weighed more than some of the people in my life.
I think we all know where it landed, right?
In our eighteen years in this house, we have never had an ice-jam as large as this one. In eighteen years, any ice chunks that have fallen have landed easily in the flower bed, nowhere near the driveway. For eighteen years, I have parked my car in exactly that same spot.
As I stared at the ice and my poor little car, I had a sudden flash of memory. About twenty-five years ago, I drove my very first brand-new car up to Mount Pleasant to visit my friend Michelle. I parked my cherry-red Plymouth Horizon (don’t judge me, I was young and stupid) in my friend’s usual spot close to the house, where a sudden gust of wind sent a tree branch through my windshield. Never mind that the tree had been standing for close to one hundred years, or that Michelle had been parking her vehicle there for nearly a decade. My car sat there for less than ten minutes, and Mother Nature dropped a tree branch on it.
Almost three decades later, she dropped an entire tree on my Ford Windstar. Gotta give her props for that one: my vehicle was a moving target that time, and she still managed to hit it.
This time, it’s a ton of ice. Literally.
You know, I’m kind of over this whole “let’s drop things out of the sky on Amy’s car” business. What’s next, a satellite? A randomly-falling sperm whale or bowl of petunias from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?
But this time, the joke’s on Mother Nature, because she missed. That’s right; she missed my car this time. The ice landed less than an inch away from my trusty little Ford Focus, close enough to cover it with snow and ice chips, but didn’t even leave a scratch.
Maybe things are looking up.
Or maybe I should just start looking up more often.