Her property is 27 acres of primarily woodlands which had a starring role as the location for our vows renewal ceremony in 2007. Her house is tucked into a hollow just below ours and a bit further back into the trees, which means that she has a bear of a driveway in the winter. She's also reached that point in her life when a broken bone can be a very serious thing indeed.
She called this morning to ask if she could park her car in our drive for a few days? The ice on her drive has gotten so bad that if she can get her car out, she doesn't want to take a chance putting it back. I asked how she would get home, then? She says the hired man tromped a pretty good path through the snow the other day, and she'd just walk in his footsteps through the woods from our house to hers. I asked if she at least had a cell phone, in case she should fall? It seems she had one, but can't seem to figure out how to charge it. So, she'd just go carefully.
I popped down there before work, sliding my car a good 4 feet on the way down her drive, and dropped off Tasha's discarded cell phone. It's mostly charged, and even though it's turned off it will still dial 911. And I did manage to get my car back out of there by putting my all-wheel drive into the very lowest gear and creeping up the left edge of the drive, where my wheels could dig into the snow a bit. She has the same model car, so she should be able to manage it.
Sybil (though I know you will never read this), it's lovely that you want to spend as much of your senior years as possible in the little valley of your dreams. But it does seem increasingly dangerous for you to live alone. Please, please don't fall in your driveway (or ours).
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