Snow problem

When the ambulance came screaming up the center of the state highway last night, I knew I needed to move off the side of the road--but I couldn't find it. 

The side of the road, that is. 

I was poking along at 25 mph on a broad expanse of snow, with no visible edge lines and no clear indication of where the road ended and the shoulder began. Where was the ditch? Where was the river? Impossible to say. Slamming on the brakes was not an option--I wasn't really in the mood for doing donuts in the middle of the highway. But here was this ambulance, lights flashing and sirens blaring, bearing right down toward me in the middle of the highway, so I nudged over toward where I imagined the edge of the road might be and watched the ambulance scream past with inches to spare.


Not so long ago such an encounter would have made me hyperventilate, but last night I managed to drive home over snow-covered roads without breaking a sweat. I credit the Volvo. For years I drove cars that lacked stability in snow, little wimpy cars just begging for an opportunity to wobble and spin, so driving in snow made me a little bit crazy. My Volvo, on the other hand, is built like a tank and handles like one too: I may have to take it slow, but I'll get there, snow or no snow.

Well, mostly. I made it about halfway up the driveway last night before sliding sideways and deciding to call it a day. My husband's car suffered a similar fate, and our neighbors's car spun out on the road, dashed across the end of our driveway, and sunk into a snow-covered farm field. This morning our driveway was studded with cars parked at jaunty angles in the snow, but mine was the first to move on out.

And driving to work this morning was a breeze: a little slush on the highway, a few slippery spots on the brick streets in town, but no reason to panic. Just another small adventure along the highway of life.