Fighting the Icecrete with Our Neighbor

Saturday we were going out to meet a friend for lunch. My husband backed the SUV out of the garage and, because the cleared path through the ice was narrow and crooked, he wound up in a huge bank of piled up ice which took his traction away from the wheels. The county had cleared one small and narrow path through the middle of the street for cars to drive through but piled the mountains of ice in the cul-de-sac.

Since he got stuck, hubby tried to get out the door to shovel. The mountain of ice was blocking the wheels and the doors on both sides; the doors would not open. Lucky for my athletic sixty-something hubby, he was able to crawl out through his window, went to the garage, picked up a shovel, and started shoveling the concrete-like ice. I called it icecrete.

Our neighbor’s son across the street saw him struggle and came with a shovel to help him dig out. He was neighborly and quite helpful. Eventually, after 45 minutes of shoveling hard ice, he brought a piece of wood which they were able to place under the front tires to create traction and hubby was able to drive the SUV off the ice bank. Needless to say, I could not come out the door on my side because it was also blocked by the mountain of icecrete.

Saying that we were momentarily unlucky, is an understatement. Fortunately, and graciously, our friend waited for us even though we were one hour late for our lunch date.

Getting old is a challenge for everyone, but my hubby was able to crawl out the window, not an easy feat for a man in his 60s.

Could he feel the pain next day? Of course, but he never complained once.