I left a note on the kitchen counter, telling Norman where the boys and I were going, grabbed my purse, turned off the lights, locked the door, slipped on my shoes, fastened up my coat, threw the cats back outside that had zipped onto the porch when the boys opened the door and headed for the van... when Norman drove into the driveway.  Oh, well.  I quickly told him that I was headed out to the country to pick up Cynthia and bring her back into town to go to the mall and then I would stop by the grocery store on my way back home.

I had thought about leaving the boys at home with their dad since I already had a headache, but decided against it since I really didn't want to be alone on the roads at night with a light mist starting to fall.  And, besides, I had taken two Tylenol before I left the house, so I figured all would be well.  That is, until I checked the gas gauge.  Whoops!  It might get us out to our friend's house, but probably not get us back.  Better stop and put some more gas in the tank.

Finally, after slipping and sliding out of Casey's, I was glad to be on the highway where the ice was all cleared off.  But, now, I had to deal with a windshield wiper that didn't want to touch the windshield... only on the driver's side!  Our 9-year-old son, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, announced, "I don't know what the problem is.  I can see just fine."  Guess he noticed that I was hunched over, trying to peer through the narrow arc left behind by the flapping and screeching wipers.

Seven miles later, I knew my turn was coming up... but where?  I know exactly where to turn onto the rock road in the daylight, but it was dark, misting out, cars in front were splattering my windshield, semis were roaring toward me and a car was trying to pass me in the slow lane on my right.  By this time, I was a little frustrated and decided to go on down the road a ways, turn around and try it again. 

One problem, though.  As I kept driving, I realized that all the side roads and driveways were coated with ice and I couldn't quite invision myself successfully pulling into a drive and backing out without getting stuck.  However, I didn't really want to go all the way to the next town because Cynthia was waiting for me and I didn't want to be late, so I decided that I could just pull onto the side of the road, wait for traffic to whizz on by and then turn around.  Sounded like a pretty simple plan to me.

Wrong!  After the highway was clear of traffic, I tried to pull forward.  Didn't work.  I tried to back up.  Didn't work.  In fact, I was getting a little scared because the more I tried, the closer our van moved toward the ditch.  No cell phone.  No man power.  Finally, the boys volunteered to push while I tried to back up (since we were parked on a slight incline).  Didn't budge.  There was a shovel in the back of the van, so Mr. I-Don't-Know-What-The-Problem-Is and I tried to scoop out a clear path behind the tires.  After trying all our resources, we finally got back in the van and sat.  And waited. 

I couldn't really blame anyone for not stopping to help.  Chances are they'd get stuck, too.  So, they whizzed by.  Our Mr. NOW-I-Know-What-The-Problem-Is started getting a little nerved up, thinking that we'd have to end up staying the night and he was afraid that he'd starve to death.  So, I turned on the radio to try and calm him back down.  The news reporter was telling the weather... possibility of 6" of snow or more tonight... travel not advised.  Yeah, right!  A little late for that now!  I quickly found a station playing soothing classical music.

As the minutes digitally passed by, I imagined that Cynthia had by now called Norman to find out why it was taking me so long to get there, Norman would have gotten terribly worried, jumped into the company car and would be on his way to save us from this terrible nightmare.  Or at least bring us chocolate.  Why, oh why, don't we ever take heed and listen to sound advice like "stock your vehicle with a flashlight, blankets, and candy in case of being stranded in the wintery claws of a deadly Iowa snowstorm"!

Okay, so we weren't exactly out in the middle of nowhere and the temperature was in the 30's, compared to the minus temps that we had just experienced over the past weekend.  But still...

Hey, wait!  A truck is slowing down... slower... slower... s-l-o-w-e-r... and then he turns into a driveway nearby and heads up a steep, winding driveway.  Oh well.  At least we NOW know that there is someone who lives up there somewhere.  I had seen that driveway earlier, but couldn't see any lights (let alone any house!) and couldn't quite pull myself out of the warm van to stumble all the way up there just to find no one there.

Our 12-year-old son was waiting for us outside, on the other side of the van while his younger brother tried to find the flashlight.  Not finding it, we joined him and started up the dark driveway, slipping and stumbling here and there.  At the top, we found a camper/trailer.  When I knocked at the door, it opened and a huge black dog was staring me in the face.  The humans inside assured me that he was a friendly dog and let me in to use their phone.  It was a rather crowded place for this family of four, but the people seemed very friendly.

Their cell phone wasn't working, so after plugging it in, I was able to reach Norman.  He was at home.  Yes, Cynthia had called.  Yes, he would come and get us.

The nice camper-woman told me that her husband could give us a lift back down the hill in his truck.  When we got back to the van, our 12-year-old said, "Here's the flashlight".  He had had it all the time.  Yes, I had some words with him.  And, yes, I apologized later.

After the nice camper-man viewed our situation, he said that he thought he could get us unstuck.  He hooked us up to his nice truck that doesn't get stuck and pulled us out onto the road.  Yay!  We were free!  But, now we had to wait for Norman to get here.

I parked the van so that the two left tires were on the highway.  I know... not the safest thing to do on a misty night, but I didn't want to get stuck again either.  So, we waited... and waited... and waited.  No Norman.  Did I give him the wrong directions?  Was he somewhere out there, stuck, too?  And, why wasn't the Tylenol taking effect?

Remembering that the company car that Norman would be driving was a little rinky-dink car that would get stuck easier than our big van, I decided to turn the van around and park it on the other side of the road.  That way, when I saw Norman coming, I could just take off and he wouldn't have to pull over.  This worked smoothly... until a police car pulled up behind me.

I walked back to explain the situation to him, but he politely informed me that I would have to pull the van off the road so that I wouldn't get hit.  I sweetly informed him that I would get stuck again.  He insistently informed me that no, I wouldn't.  So, I obediently pulled off the road.  Hmmph!

Not too much longer, a vehicle was coming toward me and flashing its headlights.  As it passed us, I noticed that it was one of Norman's friend's van.  Hoping that Norman was with him and hoping that they would see me, I went ahead and slowly pulled onto the road (yes!  it worked!)... and headed home.  Yes, Cynthia, I love you and I really wanted to help you, but at this point, I just wanted.to.go.home.

This story does have an ending.  Norman made it home okay.  Cynthia got called and everything was cool.  Norman ended up taking me to the grocery store.  Supper finally got eaten at 10:00.  Yes, I got my chocolate.  My headache went away.  And, now I just want.to.go.to.bed.