On the third day, we made it to the grocery store. Which was a good thing, because His Mom was worried about us running out of food. This was a parental version of running out of food, in which a couple who clearly enjoys cooking was having trouble organizing nice meals, as opposed to my version of running out of food, which means I've finished all the saltine crackers & I'm noshing on that jar of pickles from the back of the fridge. But still: for the sake of both our tummies and our psyches, a trip to the local grocery was a very welcome diversion. And thank goodness we found one that was open on Christmas Day -- no big deal in L.A., but something that had us worried up in Snow Prison, OR.
Except for that one nagging detail: the impassable driveway. The hike to the car was the usual pleasant, if chilly, stroll downhill past the llamas (hi, llamas!!). But the return trip was uphill. For 3/4 of a mile (have I mentioned that bit yet?) Loaded down with groceries. Through lots of snow.
I offered to take the bag with my supply of diet cola in it -- I'd been without for two whole days, but I didn't expect anyone else to lug it for me -- but Mr. UB gallantly refused. (Thanks, babe!) As for His Mom's rather absent-minded stock piling of canned goods ... well, let's just say that "next time" I'll speak up about that in the store. Because us young folks were naturally going to take the heaviest bags ... but we didn't want to make more than one trip.
The beginning. Llamas just out of frame to the left.
Coming around the first curve. That's the truck of the guy who lives even further up the hill.
Still going. At least this is the flat part.
Into the woods.
I think I see the house ..? Wave to the Klansmen trees, keep head down, keep putting one foot in front of the other. Make mental note that you'd like your next visit to be in the summertime.
Dammit the last part is steep. Why do people live where the snow is?
I'll be here if you need me.