Post 1285: snow fun…(‘s’no fun)

The day started out fine. The kitty boys begged me to play videos for cats, and they were exceptionally good kitties while the videos played.


Good fun for the kitty boys! And they were nice to each other while watching the videos.


Yeah. What I saw at 10 o’clock. That’s my black VW Sportwagen buried in a drift!

The day before I’d called the Good Samaritan office to let them know I needed to have the snow cleared so I could get to dialysis Wednesday, and that it needed to be done by at least 10 o’clock so I had adequate time to make the 11 o’clock start time. That, I figured, would give me extra time in case of getting stuck or other snow related issues.

By 10 o’clock Wednesday, no one had come to clear the snow. I WAS PISSED!


My neighbor, Gary, offered to help dig me out. His wife, Donna, told him he had no business exerting himself that way. I protested, too, telling him I expected Good Samaritan to do the job. NOW!


Gary pretended to have chest pains. Donna and I were not amused!

Here’s what the passenger side looked like. The snow was up to just about halfway to my knees.

Note that I park in a handicap parking spot. The Good Samaritan runs the apartment complex I live in, and they are responsible for clearing snow. Theoretically, they will clear snow first for people like me who have medical issues and have to make appointments. Dialysis isn’t optional!


Here’s the driver’s side of my car. The drift was crotch high! I didn’t know if I could even get into the car because the snow came up to a few inches above the bottom of the door.

I managed to get in the car. Gary walked down to the office to remind them in person I had asked for snow to be cleared the day before. Then a couple of maintenance people came over to help clear some of the snow around and behind my car off, but the main snow removal had to wait till the snow plow arrived from Hemingford, 19 miles away!

I tried to back up and got stuck. Gary and the maintenance people got me unstuck, and I drove down the lane and turned west on East 6th Street.

At the intersection of East 6th and Flack Avenue, I saw a pickup truck and a Bobcat blocking the intersection. There was a police car with lights flashing. It looked like an accident, but it might have been people clearing the snow at the intersection. Regardless, I couldn’t pass through the intersection to head north to the hospital. (Yes, I drew on my US Army vocabulary again to express feelings about that!)

I backed up to a turn off to the Good Samaritan parking lot, and headed east to what looked like the best way to get to 4th Street, which would take me to Flack, then the long way around to the hospital by 3rd Street, then Box Butte Avenue, two snow lanes that were cleared. Boyd Street looked impassable, so I turned down Lane 4, which had a path down it, thanks to a pickup.


Here I am on Lane 4…



Yes, I was thoroughly wet, mad, and running out of time to get to dialysis.img_20170125_101132

The final trial: I waded through drifts up to my knees to get back to Lane 2 to try to run down a ride and to leave my keys with Gary and Donna so Gary could park my car in my spot after the snow was cleared and the car was unstuck.

I got thoroughly wet below the knees, and barely had the strength to make the full trek. Leroy, one of the maintenance guys, had to come to me for the final stretch to knock down a path for me to walk. I still barely made it. Yes, I cussed like a Sergeant Major all the way. Cleared my lungs, I tell you!

Donna called to find a ride for me. She eventually got the Handibus lined up, and I got to dialysis just slightly later than usual. (The Handibus is a city-run service used mostly by non-drivers, elderly, or handicapped people. You can get door-to-door service at a dollar per ride.)

Did I mention Gary and Donna are the neighbors who took care of the kitty boys for the two months and 10 days I was hospitalized, then in rehabilitation in 2016? Very good people! They helped turn my disastrous snow crisis into a successful trip to the hospital for dialysis. 


Post 753: lose-lose-win…

I looked out my front door this morning, and my new neighbor still isn’t moved in. I’m glad I stopped parking in my old spot immediately after he told me he expected me to give up that spot I’ve parked in for the past 10-plus years. [sarcasm]

Dougy checks the parking situation.

Dougy checks the parking situation.

The other person who used to park where I park now moved to a public parking spot half a block away, so I should whine:  I only have to walk twice as far to my door.

Gad, I'm special! But notice the person eager for me to give up my 10-year-plus parking spot isn't there yet after several days.

Gad, I’m special! But notice the person eager for me to give up my 10-year-plus parking spot isn’t moved in yet after several days. I hope I get extra credit for hopping when told to hop, even though my attitude about it is pretty poor!

I sent the manager of the apartments an e-mail yesterday outlining my long-term disappointment and frustration with the parking situation. I offered a suggestion that would resolve the issue for me, at my expense but for my benefit  and the benefit of the other person who was parking where my car is parked now. We’ll see where that goes.

In the meantime, I do have some hard feelings about the situation and how it was handled, but am trying to find a positive way to deal with it, one where everyone wins instead of two lose, one wins.  

Maybe this makes it clearer: That's my car circled in white in this old Google Earth shot. The red circle is where I have to park now. My duplex (

Maybe this makes it clearer: That’s my car circled in white in this old Google Earth shot. The red circle is where I have to park now. My duplex (“me”- on the roof across the lane) is closer to this parking spot than the one  the “other neighbor” who used to park next to me is to where she parks now. She is designated in yellow on the photo. Notice her new parking spot is at the top of the photo, and there is nothing sure about her being able to get that specific spot each time. If anything, she could get stuck farther away from her front door more often than closer. The new neighbor is the blue pentagon, and he’ll park where my white circle is. He, at least, will be closer to his front door this way. My other neighbor and I will be inconveniently farther away than before.

Before, I had approximately 32 feet (9.745m) from my car to my front door; now I have around 50 feet (15.24m). The other person in my duplex used to have approximately 100 ft. (30.48m) from her car to her front door; now, she has over 250 feet (76.2m) from her car to her front door. Those numbers presume we always walk pretty much a straight line from out parking spots, something that isn’t practical or always possible.

Notice, too, how many units have paved parking in front of them on Lane 1 (to the left side of photo). If I had to park in the south lot (bottom of photo), which I did at one time when they were installing the new units, I’d have to park in the middle spots because other people take the spots closer to their apartments. (Of course!)

Post 751: out of steam…

Sometimes the boys and I just run out of steam. Today was such a time, and we all spent most of the morning sleeping…!

Andy woke up long enough to see I was taking his photo, then he went back to sleep. Good move!

Andy woke up long enough to see I was taking his photo, then he went back to sleep. Good move!

He scrunched the towel on the floor in front of the shower into a cat-perfect nest.

In news, we got a new neighbor across the lane. They are old neighbors, actually, who moved back to town. Though we are happy to see them again, they replace the neighbor who put out birdseed That neighbor’s largesse provided the boys hours of bird watching fun out the dining room window.

Oh, and the new neighbors have a car, so the old problem of too many cars, not enough parking spaces raises its nasty head again. I wouldn’t have moved here almost 11 years ago if I’d guessed how often parking would become an issue. The old neighbor didn’t drive.

My mail carrier may have scared off Dougy. I didn't hear her coming, but Dougy surely did, and I gratefully accepted the mail from this poor, frozen servant of the people. That';s her trudging up an incline covered in another drift across the lane. My neighbor gets a big drift the length of the ramp up to her front door.

The manager of the apartments thinks there’s room for one more car in this parking space. A cold day in hell, I say: I need to be able to open my door all the way to get out because of mobility issues. My body just doesn’t allow tight parking spaces, so I’d have to park in the drift on the far left and the other two cars’d have to crunch closer together. (That’s my Chevrolet next to the person in the photo, so you can see I’d go from the most favorable spot to the least favorable spot to accommodate the new neighbors’ car. The sidewalk to my apartment is to the right of that yellow pole , so the distance I’d have to walk is doubled parking in the “new” spot.) 

I’ve toyed with putting in my application for a handicapped parking permit for some time, but haven’t gone ahead with it for two reasons: 1. I’m too proud to admit I am in shape bad enough to qualify, and, 2. many of the handicapped parking spots actually are farther from the main doors of the businesses featuring them than other parking spots for the general population, so there’s no advantage to someone who has problems walking distances.

On the other hand, if I apply for one and get it — I’m in worse shape than many of those I see using them! — the parking issue at my apartment becomes one with some interesting legal ramifications if my needs can’t be accommodated. An interesting conundrum.