Keep your white Christmases to yourselves

Robert and I can't get home after the Oklahoma Christmas blizzard. At least during the storm, we were at the Miller farm by Hydro, Oklahoma, over a hours drive from our house. We're always invited for Christmas because the Millers and we share three grandsons. Their daughter Janelle is married to our youngest.

We stay at Janelle's brother's house, about 100 yards from the main house. We awoke Christmas Eve morning and were stranded at his house. The mighty grandsons (Ryan, 17, 6'3" and 240; Cobly, 15, 6'1" and 180; Shane, 13, 5'7", and 160) fought the wind and battled their way between houses a couple of times that morning.

We watched from the living room window as the visibility would improve until we could see the main house or worsen until we couldn't see the small tree a few feet from the window. One trip Colby made during a lull in the fifty-mile-per-hour wind, the lull didn't last long enough for him to make it to the house where we were. As he blew south, he grabbed a tree and held on. During another lull, he hurried to the house.

About noon, when things were not improving, Randy, our son, and two of the boys took shovels to dig us out and clear a path for us to get to the other house. Janelle's dad came to push her brother in his wheel chair behind one boy with a shovel. Robert planned on following behind, following their tracks, in his power chair. The snow filled in, and Robert's chair bogged down. Randy pushed the chair through the drift and to safety.

Meanwhile I'm chugging along behind everyone with my walker. The wind pushed me, and I was going south. Randy ran back, stood on the south side of me, grabbed one handle of my walker, and placed his other arm around me. He literally half carried me to the other house.

We then stayed inside the main house until that night, when Colby drove our van to the back of the house. The way from the front door around the house to the garage was clear enough Robert could take his chair. He loaded himself in the van as Colby helped, walker and all, out the back door to the van. Let's just say the trip wasn't as easy as it sounds. We drove around the back of Jerrald's, where the house opened into a huge car port. Randy and boys met us there and shoveled a way from the van to the back door. Finally we were inside for the night, and cold son and grandsons headed on foot through the drifts to the main house.

Christmas morning, Robert and I loaded into the van and drove to the back of the main house. Jackie, Janelle's and Jerrald's dad, pushed Jerrald over to the house through the path they had shoveled.

We had a good Christmas day. During the afternoon, Jackie used his tractor with a blade to make a larger path through the snow drifts. We could then go back and forth as we wished.

Robert and I planned to go home today, but when I called a neighbor I was told we wouldn't be able to get to our house. Out here we received maybe four inches of snow, which mainly blew into drifts or continued on to Texas. In the Oklahoma City area, eight to fourteen inches fell, and drifts were much taller than the four foot ones here. Sue told me that even if we could make it to the house over the snow-packed streets littered with stalled cars, we couldn't get into our drive. A drift was taller and larger than my Dodge Caravan, and drifts blocked the walkway and entry way to the house.

Even if we had shovels to dig our way to the door, we physically can't. Ish.

Therefore, here I sit typing my blog wishing I were home. However, I don't know of any "snow elves" who will clear the way for us.

Good thing Janelle's folks and we are good friends.