This Monday morning, I begin the week having to remove the snow that accumulated on my car overnight. I do not look forward to the task. My arms are sort of short, and have trouble reaching the top of the Acura to dispense with the snow that might fall on my windshield as I drive.
Here’s the rub. I own a garage-it came with my condo, but I rarely use it. I always have trouble maneuvering my auto into what seems to me to be a too-small space. Obviously the are is large enough for me to park in, it is just not big enough to put the car in to comfortably. Like an old dress that I can wiggle into but is too tight from years of eating too many cookies, I won’t wear it.
That is how I feel about my garage-minus the cookies. I don’t understand why I have such a hard time parking in the shelter designed for this purpose. My neighbors glide their SUVs and other larger cars than mine into their assigned garages seemingly without effort every night. While, when I return home, I search for a vacancy in the unassigned visitor’s parking area hoping to snag a spot. I may even walk a distance to my home. Anything is better than parking in my garage.
One time, while trying to navigate the car into it, I banged the mirror off my car and the fear remains today. I am a good driver and even parallel park without effort. It’s the damn squeezing my car into the garage that is the problem.
When I woke up Sunday morning, the snow had already fallen several inches, and I figured it was too late to try to get my car into the enclosed space. So, once at 8AM I used an old scraper/brush to push the white frozen stuff off the car. Then, voila!, the snow stopped, only to start again several hours later, when I had to repeat the process.
I saw an older(I’m not young) woman attempting to clear her car. Even though she appeared to be more competent than I was at snow removal, I offered to help. That gesture made me feel a little better. But, once again, later in the afternoon, the snow began falling once more, and once more I went outside, in boots and a hat and repeated the process of earlier in the day. I even prayed the snow would stop. I feel guilty wasting a prayer on such a trivial matter. But I felt I could use some divine intervention.
Unfortunately, it snowed again last night and I face the prospect of once again bundling up and scraping off the car which I usually love, but now feels burdensome. Who ever coined the term “snow angels,” I beg to disagree. Yes, the scenery is beautiful and children love to play in the white stuff of winter, but until I learn how to park more easily in the garage, I prefer the term, “snow devils.”