A father’s worries (snow day edition)

I do not blog about the members of my family. I respect their privacy, and I figure that they can tell their own stories on social media if they wish. My readers miss some good stories because of this policy, but certain principles need to be held consistently.

Of course there are exceptions.

This account is mostly about me and the way I felt, but there is no way to tell the story without including members of my family.

One day last month, schools and other institutions were closed due to winter weather. Other businesses, including the shopping mall, chose to remain open. I have daughters who work for a fast-food restaurant inside a shopping mall. Their manager figured that the mall would be busier than usual, the schools being closed and all. He texted those who were scheduled to work and asked them to try to come to work. He also called for additional workers, for whoever was available.

Some of our neighbors had already left their homes by car and didn’t seem to have trouble with the local street, so my daughters figured they could get to work safely. They set off by car. I was home—the place where I work was closed for the day. I had no plan to try to travel anywhere.

Then the phone rang.

My daughter the passenger called to tell me that they had slid to the edge of the street and couldn’t get the car moving again. They were well past half-way to the mall, but they were in a low spot between two hills, and two other cars were also stuck in the same area.

While we were talking, I heard my daughter the driver scream, and my daughter the passenger said urgently, “oh no, oh no.” Yet another car had met the same slick spot on the road and was sliding directly toward them. A collision was narrowly avoided, thanks to God’s grace and the skill of the other driver. Imagine my helpless anguish, though, being home on the phone and listening to my daughters in danger, unable to help them in any way.

We stayed on the phone for twenty minutes, and two more cars slid on the same spot straight toward my daughters in their car, and all I could do was listen to their shouts and screams.

Other cars managed to navigate the road. Those drivers chose not to stop to help, and I cannot blame them. Anyone who stopped between the hills was going to be stuck there. I asked my daughters to get out of the car and stand a safe distance away. They finally took my suggestion.

At one point a pickup truck belonging to the city did stop. The driver spoke with my daughters and the other people who were stuck. He said that the sand truck had stopped sanding right at that spot, which is why it was so slippery. He had called for barricades to close the road, and the sand truck would be back as quickly as possible.

From this point, the story is a happy one. My daughters continued to stay in touch by phone, off and on, while they waited for the sand truck. An older couple saw them standing by the car in front of their house and invited them indoors for tea and cookies. When the sand truck had arrived and applied its sand, the gentleman asked them if they would like his help to get the car unstuck. They thought he was offering to push. Instead, he took the keys, got behind the wheel, and maneuvered the car onto a drivable stretch of the street. He got out of the car, they got in, and they headed toward home.

The main streets were good, but they feared the side streets of the neighborhood. Therefore, they stopped at a grocery store, bought hats and mittens and hot beverages, and walked the last mile home. In the afternoon, when the streets were in better condition, I drove my daughter to the store to regain her car.

People say that as children grow, their parents’ worries become larger rather than smaller. I have to say that in my family, that adage appears to be true. J.

 

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Hearty skillet recipe

During my one-year internship, when I lived alone in an apartment, I invented a recipe that was cheap, easy to make, satisfying, and easy to rewarm as leftovers. Somehow, this recipe became a default family lunch for snow days. Even if I had to walk a mile in the snow to the grocery store for two or three ingredients, I did so willingly because we all like this lunch.

Here are the ingredients for my recipe: One box of macaroni and cheese (which will require some butter and milk), one pound of cooked meat, half an onion chopped, half a bell green pepper chopped, two cloves of garlic diced, one can of diced tomatoes (14 ½ ounces), one small can of mushroom pieces, two teaspoons chili powder, 1 ½ teaspoons Italian seasoning (or half a teaspoon each of oregano, parsley, and thyme), and half a teaspoon of cinnamon.

Prepare the macaroni and cheese according to the instructions on the package. While waiting for the water to come to a boil, chop the vegetables and cook them in the skillet in two teaspoons of vegetable oil or melted butter. Add the tomatoes, mushrooms, meat, and spices. Stir occasionally. When the macaroni and cheese is prepared, add it to the skillet. Stir and bring to the table.

My usual meat for this recipe is diced summer sausage. We receive summer sausages in gift baskets every Christmas, and summer sausage on crackers is appealing for only a few consecutive evenings. Many other meat choices are possible: cooked chicken, diced; cooked ham, diced; ground beef; hotdogs or bratwurst, sliced; or just about any other leftover meat found in the refrigerator. Fish (at least canned tuna) does not go well into this recipe. A meatless version could easily be made with a cup of beans or corn in place of the meat.

This is a hearty meal that is easy to prepare. I’ve doubled it when my children had friends over to play in the snow. The leftovers store well and are easily warmed for a meal later in the week. J.