Mom's visit, part 1

So, as I mentioned, my mom was here last week!  It was awesome, I was so glad to so her.  I was also really glad she just happened to be here when I had to move into my apartment and out of the barracks!  She says I planned this, but I assure you I did not.  But who am I to pass up the opportunity to get free labor in the form of Mom?

Anyway, my mom is also a Florida native.  She's seen snow twice before in her life, so coming to Alaska in the middle of winter we knew would be entertaining.  My mom was lucky enough to fly in just hours before another major winter storm, probably the worst one since I've been here.  It wasn't really snowing, it was just sleet and freezing fog and all other sorts of ugliness.  In the hopes of trying to keep my mom from being outside as much as possible, we spent her first whole day here in the hotel or driving around.  We did, however, walk across the street for coffee.  I walked ahead, making sure everything was ok for mom so she wasn't surprised by ice.  My reward was getting hit in the back of the head with a snowball.  I get even, don't worry.  But now I can cross "Have a snowball fight" off my list of things to do!

I thought a bit later it would be a great idea to show mom my new apartment (at least, the house it was attached to).  It snowed almost a foot over night, but it was afternoon already and I was sure that the plows had gotten to work and everything would be fine.

It wasn't.

You saw that coming didn't you?

As I went to make the final turn, there was a snow bank.  Now, every one here keeps telling me I can just drive over snow, I'll be just fine.  And sure enough I had been.  18 inches?  Whatever, I can totally plow right over that.  If the snow is powder.  Apparently, that is a key factor.

Guess what kind of snow this was not?

Yeah, so I drove head-on into a bank of wet, icky snow.  And now it started to rain.  I was totally stuck.  I tried everything.  I shoveled, I used the cat litter my fiance told me to get, I used salt, I tried driving forward, backwards, turning the wheel.  Nadda.  Someone finally stopped with a snow shovel (I only had a little survival shovel).  He started digging.  Then someone stopped with toe straps.  Amen for these two gentlemen! I was out in no time.  But I looked like a drowned rat.  Oh well.  I was out and that was good enough for me!  Apparently, my mom thought this whole ordeal was hysterical.  I suppose it was.  I retold the story to my fiance.  His response?

"I told you to get a snow shovel for your car."

Dear, I believe you left out the snow part, because I did have a shovel. *sigh*  So mom bought me one for next time, just in case.  I just had no idea "next time" would be 6 hours later.