My husband and I were driving down to Boston the other morning, to support friends whose aged father had just died. We were dressed in preliminary layers, with our black funeral clothes hanging in garment bags in the back window.
Two-plus hours later, we were nearing the funeral home, and spotted a Starbucks on our side of the road. We pulled in, and carrying our garment bags, ran through an icy, sub-zero wind into the restaurant and made for the restrooms to put on our final black layers.
Later, when we pulled into the funeral home, there were about six guys in black coats and hats with matching earmuffs in the drive, waiting for the funeral party. The killer-wind whipped their black coats against them as they moved to open our car doors. "Uh oh!" I said to W.; he rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming. We leapt out into the fierce wind, which blasted through our car as the guy on the driver's side lowered himself into the seat. He drove off hunched against a blizzard of white hair from our dog whipped up from the floor, the air around him a churning mass of light grey behind the windows. He took our car around back to position it for the funeral cortege that would drive to the graveyard after the wake.
Meanwhile, W. and I again made for the restrooms once we got in the door, relieved to get out of the bitter wind. W. had our clothes-brush, so I picked white hairs off my suit by hand, a tedious process. He got out long before I did to meet our friends at the door - a moment I hadn't wanted to miss because we hadn't told them we were coming.
Later, at lunch after the funeral, my friend B. told me about that moment. They were indeed surprised and touched to see W. as they came in the door, and when they asked if I'd come too, W. said, "Yeah, she's around here somewhere, but it's been so long I hope they haven't embalmed her."
And our driver emerged from the back hallway with a perfect, true-black coat, so I guess they're ready for anything, even dog-hair blizzards. I'm just glad it wasn't anyone we know, to see how dirty my car is in winter.
We'll be escaping the other kind of blizzards in a few days when we go to Florida for two weeks of business and pleasure. W.'s going to Miami for a boat-race, which is business for a sailmaker, and I'm going to visit a fellow submarine writer in St. Augustine. Then W.'s taking a train to meet me and we're going north to Okefenokee Wildlife Refuge to paddle through the swamp for a few days. It'll be glorious to feel sun on our arms and be surrounded by birdsong.
I'll be back blogging again the week of March 12. Until then, stay warm.
An interesting little story about hair blizzards. As much as I love dogs, I will dread the shedding when we find our new pet. I usually look for a breed that doesn't shed!! My family decided on a memorial service for just us...no funeral. We are a simple breed.
Posted by: Tabor | February 25, 2007 at 12:36 PM
Wishing you a pleasant trip. Sounds as though you won't need encouragement to enjoy the sunshine. May the sail making business prosper and the submarine writers fare well.
Posted by: Joared | February 26, 2007 at 01:30 AM