Is not your fear of God your confidence,
And the integrity of your ways your hope?
26 DEC 2008:
Snow continues to fall.
I find this remarkable, frankly. My parents’ neighborhood continues as a morass of knee- to ankle-deep slushy snow, often atop a slick frozen snowy layer. So far, I have helped push 10 cars and one FedEx truck (the truck didn’t move. It was like pushing a boulder). No snow plows come down into the neighborhood, and the roads show tracks of dozens of adventurous or foolish drivers attempting to escape. We have relied on my father driving his four-wheel-drive Subaru for our sole transportation. It’s much like regressing to junior high again, begging rides from parents to get anywhere.
Frankly, I’m really ready for the snow to end. I want to ride a bike, although that will not likely happen until we get back to Massachusetts. Dad and I have gone on a couple four-mile, a two-mile walk, and lots of one-mile walks, which all become much more of a challenge in the slippery snow. I’ve taken about three walks with snow shoes on, and those make one mile feel like five. Excellent exercise, but the last walk, with a neighbor up the street named Mel, gave me a good blister on my heel and a swollen, sore spot on the top of my foot that continued to hurt and be extremely sensitive to touch long after we finished the walk. I think I had my boots laced too tightly across the top of my foot.
27 DEC 2008:
The temperature when we took Carmel for a walk this morning: 40°F (the top of my foot really hurts still, and even a mile with the blister on my heel wasn’t exactly the peachiest). Yay! Most roads seem almost completely clear…except for the section in our back neighborhood here. Here we still have six to ten inches of slush and wet snow, enough to keep us thoroughly confined. It is incredibly frustrating to know we have clear roads a quarter of a mile away, but not to be able to get the car to those roads.
Yesterday Ian and I hung out for a couple hours with Ryan and a couple I didn’t really know that well (Wes and Crystal Gallaher, more friends of Ryan’s than ours). Dad had to chauffeur us again. It feels like junior high: Daaaad, will you take me to my friend’s house? That aside, we had a nice time chatting and catching up, I think, but Ian and I did have to help dig and push Ryan’s car out of the parking lot when we left.
People keep asking when we’re coming back to Washington, as if we have some control in the matter. We sort of do, in that we can choose when to job search, but we aren’t so desperate to come back that we’ll both quit our jobs, move out here unemployed, and start looking then. We’re hoping for one or the other of us to find employment here first, although that might be excessively hopeful. I feel extremely reluctant to quit my well-paying job with no plans for what to do after that. People also keep making comments like Hopefully you won’t have to fly back for Christmas again next year, or things about Maybe you’ll be able to come along on vacations in the Washington area. These comments depress me, because there’s nothing I’d like more than to come back here. Unfortunately I’m not God, and I don’t know what’s going to happen, so there’s not much we can do besides apply for jobs and hope.
Anyway, last night we — we being Ian and me, my parents, and Colleen and Jordan — played a game of Rummy Royal. Colleen and I lost promptly; I went out in glory betting all my chips on a decent poker hand — a full house, but only 2s high. Alas, by cruel fate, Dad also had a full house and all other full houses beat mine. Still, betting the farm on a full house would usually have paid off, so I didn’t regret my strategy.
Now Mom and Dad are off to a wedding in Port Angeles, stranding the rest of us here since their other car still can’t get out of the neighborhood. My friend Karissa, owner of a Ford Expedition, should be making an appearance later today. I’m looking forward to seeing her since we only actually catch up in person every year or so. Honestly I don’t have that many friends left — after high school and college we mostly went our own ways and vanished off each other’s radar — so I always want to keep in touch with the few people left. I guess that’s probably my fault, though, that I’m not constantly building new friendships. Making friends just doesn’t come easily too me. I like solitary pursuits too much, or maybe I’m too selfish or lazy to be willing to reach out to people.