Cold Flashes of Brilliance
how being from Wisconsin means instantly being resourceful in winter
Winter is the most demanding season. We have no choice in the slippery matters as they arise – we must tap our seldom-used skills of resourcefulness, ingenuity, and creativity. Simply put, winter pins us like lemons to a juicer, forcing us to make lemonade.
I’ve come to regard these moments as opportunities – though usually in the distant (and much warmer) afterglow of reflection. And this hard-earned knowledge accumulates, inch by inch, every year.
One December, my roommate and I spent an hour simply preparing my car to drive the precarious eight blocks to the laundromat. (We really really needed to do our laundry). Of course, as soon as we hauled our clothes-laden baskets out to the driveway, it started to snow – hard. And the doors of my Chevy Lumina were frozen – hard. This was a semi-weekly occurrence.
So we yanked. But my door handles are the kind that pull up. I’m no physics expert, but I’m pretty sure the force needs to oppose the door in a horizontal fashion. So I have this (pretty legitimate, I think) fear of handle-snappage.
We pounded on all four door-seams with our fists. (Tip: put a stocking hat between your fist and the door). Then I remembered I had some de-freezing solution – a tiny bottle equipped with a needle – so I retrieved it and punched it into the rubbery seal. A trickle oozed out. It was suddenly glaringly clear that it was designed for inserting into a lock, not an entire door frame.
I like to think the next step wasn’t necessarily obvious to the winter layman. We boiled a pot of water. No, not a pot – a Dutch oven. Then I carried it outside without sloshing water on myself or the stairs, and poured the steaming liquid evenly over the door seam.
The desperate move worked ... yet the payoff was simply entering the car. The drive was another story altogether.
|« Previous||Next »|