Traffic, weather, and the news report

Fact 1: My mother lives about 50 miles north of my new home town.

Fact 2: It has been snowing, hard, at least every other day for a week and a half.

About half way to my mother's house, a large mountain pokes its toe out under the highway. The weather on top of the toe is typically very windy. When you add in snow, it makes for treacherous conditions -- even if it's just a toe and not a whole mountain.

This mountain toe seems to separate two different weather systems. The few days in the past week where it has not been snowing here, it has been snowing on the other side of the toe, and vice versa. I think it snows constantly on the toe. (I feel sorry for the people living in those new homes up there. They have a nice view sure, but can't go out. Ever. Assuming people still live in those new houses in this economy.)

Christmas morning we called my mother to wish her a merry white Christmas, and inform her that we wouldn't be driving up there in this weather. She was surprised. There was no weather fifty miles north. My brother, visiting from Tennessee, was jealous. "How come you get all the snow?"

Today the forecast was clear. The roads were still snow packed and icy, but we braved the trip over the mountain to visit family and friends.

Stop 1: a visit with a high school/grad school friend, now a postdoc at Princeton, in town to see her parents. We compared notes on life after grad school, laughed about lab work and writing papers and teaching. Oh, and you look really great, Alison.

Stop 2: a baby shower for Tim's cousin. Tim actually has two cousins expecting babies soon, which is exactly two thirds of all his cousins in the whole world. I watched the pregnant cousins waddle around the room, noticing little things like how they sucked in their breath before sitting or standing, hauling themselves and the fetus and the placenta and all that fluid and baggage with every step. Mother-in-law asked if it made me wish I were pregnant again? No, but I can empathize, Lisa and Jess. I can empathize.

Stop 3: a family gathering for my mother's siblings. All but one of the six were in attendance, in spite of the snow packed roads. We talked about cousins and children and health.

We ducked out, smiling, an hour before dark. We wanted to be back on our side of the mountain toe before the roads started freezing again. The drive home was uneventful enough that a few towns past the toe I fell asleep (no, I wasn't driving). I woke up, grumpy, as we rounded the corner to our house.

The final report: Things are well 50 miles north. We won't be returning for a while. (Sorry Mom). Maybe we'll make our way back in the spring. Maybe for kite flying, up there by the toe, among all the newly foreclosed houses. 50 miles is a long way in the ice.