With a big snow expected, the people that do these sorts of things at my work had, for the first time, marked off with orange traffic cones the long walkway bisecting the parking lot. Ah ha! No one will mistakenly block the walkway by parking their snow-blinded car in its midst. Monday, cones--no snow. Tuesday, cones--no snow. Wednesday, snow--no cones. Parking lot plowed, walkway hidden; cone-less tundra of white obscures all.
Then, whereas I would have contentedly ridden the bus to work, switching to my winter transit mode, Madeline needed a ride home from school Wednesday. So I drove to work. Well, tried.
Thought was to stop at Nina's on the way to work. Snelling to I-94. Lexington exit. Concordia, across Dale. Right at the four-way stop with Marshall, where the Boy Scouts of America have theirs offices--up the hill. Oops. The suspicion that Dorothea and I'd had last spring about the Hyundai's tires not being "aggressive" enough for snow--confirmed. I eventually slide sideways and backwards down the hill and followed a hill-less route to work, sans Nina's.
Then, at work, texting with Madeline, found out that of course she wouldn't be staying after school. After school activities cancelled--all of them, actually. She'd be taking the school bus home.
I was so pissed that, later, home from work when I told Dorothea that we needed new tires, stat, and got her expected non-commital response ("We'll be seeing Joe this weekend"--he's the brother-in-law car guy), I said then she could move the cars the next morning for the snow emergency. Later she came back, saying she didn't care. Do whatever I wanted about tires.