Misinkled...

Somehow, I missed it.  I'm normally pretty good with the weather inklings.  But, this time, I was lulled into a false sense of security by the weather forecast and failed to pick up on the little brain vibrations that tell me a storm is a-comin'.  

To be fair, no one else did either, near as I can tell.  And I never claimed to be good with the weekend inklings.  I don't really need to worry about weekend weather since school isn't going to be cancelled due to snow on a weekend.  It's already closed due to the government's inability to come up with a way to make me work a 7 day week.  I'm sure they are on top of this little bit of business.  But, for the time being, I don't have to inkle as much on a Sunday.

I, on the other hand, was inkling all over the place last night.  All night.  You didn't manage to notice that???  

As a matter of fact, I did notice the BFK being a bit more animated than is usual.  But I put it down to weekend hi-jinks and the joy that comes with Mummy being home for a couple of days.  I failed to see the inkles.

Hence, I was a bit surprised this morning when I pulled open the blinds to gaze upon the glory that is a Sunday morning in Maine and ready myself for my weekly trip to the grocery store.  It was snowing.  Quite a bit, actually...

I checked the weather report online and was assured that these were mere snow showers which would result in an inch or so of the white stuff.  Thus comforted, I ventured out.  There was more than an inch out there.  There were more than two inches.  It was at least three...maybe four.  And it was still snowing.

But, I needed my sustenance for the week and, more importantly, had a prescription that needed filling.  So off I went.

The management folks at the grocery store, also somewhat surprised by the amount of precipitation, were doing their best to clear the parking lot.  They had managed to scrounge up a small Snow Cat and enlisted some dude with a plow on his pickup truck.  They were merrily moving the snow from one spot to another and seemed to take great joy in putting it wherever I was considering parking.  But, I was determined and the shopping was going to be done with or without their cooperation.

Feeling somewhat better after getting the larder restocked and filling up the weekly pill container thingie that old folks such as myself must use to remind us to take our prescriptions, I was then faced with the next challenge:

What to do with my truck.

I've lived in this complex for a long time.  Longer than most who reside here.  And, please be assured, this is by circumstance rather than by choice.  But, I have a roof over my head, so I make the best of it.  During my occupancy, the rules around parking during snow events have changed at annoyingly random intervals.  Sometimes, it is the wish of the Powers-That-Be that we leave our vehicles where they are until the roadways are cleared, then move them.  Other times we are to move them before the first pass of the plow's blade.  One never knows when the rules will change, but one will know shortly thereafter as one is assured to be given a tongue-lashing for not following the unwritten rules of parking.

The current Bosses Of Us seem to be of the Move It Now persuasion.  I believe that they would actually prefer that we move our cars sometime in the Fall and just leave them there.  Or that we find a way to levitate them.  I know this because we all got Nasty-grams taped to our doors not too long ago chastising us for our evil ways with regard to storm parking.  These notes were followed up by Happy-grams praising us for getting on board with the program and obeying the parking overlords.

The tough part of this, however, is that they are more consistent with the enforcement of snow parking than they are with the actual snow plowing.  One never knows if the lot will really be cleared or if one is going to have to leave one's truck over by the dumpster all night where the zombies hide and if one is going to be attacked by these zombies in the early morning hours when one is just trying to go to work and earn money to pay the condo fees that support the lack of plowing.

And with this snow event being kind of a surprise thing, the plowing question became even more convoluted.  Would the plows know to come and remove the snow?  Or were they, like me, taken by surprise and doing other stuff because they hadn't factored this into their Sunday Schedule? Much of the day was spent pondering my parking choices and valuable time was lost debating with myself over the best course of action.  In the end, I parked over by the zombie-hiding dumpster and just hoped that my sacrifice would not be in vain.  It wasn't.  The plows did, in fact arrive.  But it was dark when they came and I still had to risk having my brains eaten to go retrieve my truck so it would be waiting for me it its usual spot tomorrow morning.

By now, I'm sure I've lost most of you.  And those who have stuck with the saga to this point have to be wondering just what this has to do with anything.  I can't say as I blame you.  Although I have to admit some surprise at finding anyone left who hasn't yet caught on to my rambling tendencies.  You really should know better by now...

But, I do have a point and it is this:  A day spent thinking about parking and how not to offend The Parking Powers is not a day conducive to knitting.  Hence, I have nothing to show you.  There was ample time to finish the second of the Even Widdler Baby Sox.  And I spent some time noodling around with a pattern for a baby blanket.  But most of my brain power went towards pondering parking.  Hopefully, with the truck returned to its spot and the crisis passed, I can maybe do something more constructive with the few hours I have left before I call this weekend, "finito."

Or, I could continue finding clever excuses...

SA