Slipping and Sliding

This. Kind of this.

Paul Simon, he who did not sport the bad white guy perm, of Simon and Garfunkel, penned a song called "Slip Slidin Away." The opening verse goes like this:

Slip slidin' away
Slip slidin' away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away

Those lyrics became all too real for us as we drove home from getting religion earlier this afternoon. As we motored up the hill to our home, the more we found ourselves sliding away from it. This is NOT, I repeat, NOT a good feeling when you are slipping backward in a GMC Yukon the size and weight of an armed artillery tank. We owe this slippery sensation to that she-shrew, the one and only Mother Nature. She decided to get freaky today.

Things took a weird turn as we drove to Church early this morning. When we left the house, it was not quite raining or sleeting but it was like a frozen mist was falling. No big whoop, I thought, as we drove. Then, out of nowhere, our windshield was frozen over. 'That escalated quickly,' I thought to myself. It felt like we were in a scene from a craptastic disaster movie (thy name is 'The Day After Tomorrow'). Walking through the Church parking lot into the building was a slippery affair but once we were inside, I didn't give it much further thought. I was speaking in Church today so was a little more focused on that than what the aforementioned she-shrew was going to do during our services.

Three hours later (and no, I did not speak for three hours. I mean I can go on and on but not for three hours-have mercy!), it is now pouring rain but because everything is already frozen over, the rain really has nowhere to go. That's where things turned very interesting getting up the long hill to our home. Since the rain had nowhere to go, it pretty much turned to ice. Suffice to say, my tank did not like the conditions. Frankly, neither did the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML. Her death grip on both the door handle and her seat belt was quite impressive. Impressive, in the end, was the performance of my environmentally offensive, but totally awesome, Yukon. She may not have liked it and the groaning from her engine made that clear, but we got home safely.

I am now glancing out the window from the warmth of my basement while I take my online driving school course. While in Arizona for Thanksgiving a few months ago, I may or may not have been captured on a traffic cam exceeding the posted speed limit somewhere in Gila County. Um...have you been to Gila County? You'd speed too but like I said, may or may not. Allegedly. This is four hours of my life I'm not getting back either.  Good times.