Trekking over the tundra

The saying goes that God looks after drunks and fools. It’s not exactly biblical, but some people put store by it. Well, this fool certainly wasn’t drunk but I won’t rule out a little divine intervention on behalf of an idiot.

It was Tuesday of last week. I’m sure most folks remember Tuesday, along with Monday, Wednesday, and the whole mess.

Anyway, I decided that I needed to go to the pharmacy and the grocery store. I had been out and cleared off the car on Monday. It was so cold the snow was powdery. Not good snowman material, but the car cleaned easily enough. So far so good.

Driving wasn’t as bad as I feared, mainly because I was taking it easy, pretty much like most everybody else. There was a little slippage, but not enough to make me lose control.

The pharmacy was closed. I turned around in the pharmacy’s parking lot and took off for groceries. Still no problem.

Things were fine at the store. Some stuff I wanted to get was gone, like mandarin oranges, but that was okay. Alice had plenty of chocolate milk so that wasn’t a problem. I got bread and a few other things.

I managed to get everything out to the car, and into the trunk. It was after I closed the trunk and started around to the driver’s side door that I noticed I didn’t have my keys. Not in a pocket. Not in my hand. Not in the snowy slush around the car. I must have dropped them into the trunk.

My phone wasn’t working. I couldn’t reach anyone (I later learned that all I had to do was turn it off for a few minutes and then turn it back on, but even then, other folks had problems of their own and most likely wouldn’t have been able to help).

That left but one thing to do, at least to my addled brain. I started trudging, for a walk from the Walmart parking lot to my home in Beech Grove, to pick up a spare key. Not the longest walk in the world. Then again, not the shortest, either.

I realized that once I had the key, I’d have to walk back. What I didn’t stop to think was that these temperatures were probably not the best thing in the world for a guy with asthma. But I really didn’t have much of a choice.

I was glad that I’ve been walking a lot, because I was in better shape than I was months ago. But this was different. It was cold, I was wearing heavy boots (thank goodness), as well as a heavy coat, and in places I was having to slog through snow and slush. But I had heavy gloves and a scarf over my face. Eventually, I got home.

I pounded on the door, non too gently, and woke Alice up from a nap. She let me in and I explained the problem. She gave me her spare key, and I also retrieved another from a junk drawer in my bedroom – just in case. Now it was time to start back.

And so I did, to Division, to Washington, to Deaderick, to the parking lot and to my car.

I used a spare key to open the trunk, moved some bags around, and there they were, the keys that I had dropped.

The drive home was uneventful. My inhaler was most welcome, as was the hot chocolate.

Later, with a phone that was working, I talked to the Baby Sister about my adventure. She’s the one who brought up the saying about drunks and fools. Who am I to argue?

Did I learn anything from that experience? Well, I learned that I can walk it if I have to. I also learned that it’s a good idea to be careful with one’s keys when one is dealing with snow, ice and bags of groceries.

•••••

One thing my little experience did, was to make me a little more timid about the weather.

Thursday came, and with it was an appointment to get Alice to Jonesboro. Along with that, was the threat of freezing rain and who knows what else.

I had been a little emboldened when I found the pharmacy open on Wednesday, but this was different. I called the State Police, and was told that Arkansas Highway 1 between Forrest City and Jonesboro was “slick.”

Slick, they said. I thought about it a little while, and considered chancing it. Then I thought back to Tuesday. So I called the place where Alice had her appointment and re-scheduled. I admit, perhaps a little shamefaced, that I couldn’t help but feel a good bit of relief after doing that. We can make the trip Monday in relative safety. At least that’s what the weather prognosticators are saying.

Like they say, better safe than sorry, which is a better saying that anything about drunks and fools. Am I proud of myself for making that little trek on Tuesday? Well, maybe a little. Am I proud of what caused the necessity of doing it? Not particularly. And I don’t want to do it again.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: David Nichol is a freelance writer who retired from the Times-Herald. He can be contacted at nicholdb@cablelynx.com.)