in retirement, i'm totally free to get obsessed with whatever i want. i actually work two jobs, but they're both part time, and i mean very part time. i work on my writing, and yes, sometimes i get obsessed, sometimes i even get obsessed with the marketing, which seems like a whole lot of fuss for almost no result.

but lately, i've become obsessed with the ice on the roads. there are about eighteen miles between here and the kids' school, and it snows regularly. the snow melts and becomes ice, and because these are steep roads, there are two problems, going up and going down. there is generally a cliff on at least one side of the road. if you fail to keep momentum going up, and you stop, you slide back down and this could mean going over a cliff. now trees would probably catch you, before you went too far, but nonetheless that's an image that sticks in my mind at night.

so we had a huge snowstorm the other night, though it probably wasn't huge on the grand scale, or over many years, as the oldtimers have seen all kinds of things. by huge i mean eight inches in town, about six out here, and plows and trucks making enough paths in the snow to turn the whole road into ice pretty quickly. now there are two fortunate things about new mexico: one is that it actually got above thirty-two in the day, and some of it melted. but the other thing is the sun: virtually anything that gets in the intense sun has the chance to melt, whether it gets above freezing or not.

this left a patchwork on our road, most of which is paved. altogether i'd say that about fifteen miles of it is paved, with only three-and-a-half gravel. and, though some of it is steep, some of it is really not, and winds around down along a canyon where, if you go off the road, you just go into a field, or maybe up against a hillside.

and as this snow melted, pretty soon there was more and more pavement. pavement is good because, when you use your brakes, you stop. or, if you're going up, and you step on the gas, your tires get traction, and you go forward, which is what you want. in general i'm finding that keeping the right speed, and the capability of moving over when other cars come, is really good.

took the kids to school in a blinding blizzard and, up in the village, there was a cloud hanging all over the mountain. on my way back, i saw the emergency vehicles. some guy had turned up his car, on its side, and we could see the underside of this vehicle. a little boy was running around; he was maybe three. the school kids apparently got a ride separately.

he had simply gone off on the ice, i figure. easy enough to do. some days, it's 95% ice, both the steep hills and mild ones. in this case, he was on the highway, but it was still relatively steep, and he had to go fast to keep driving on snow that was turning to ice and becoming very slick. i had been on that same road minutes before. i looked at him, and his kids, and said to myself, there but for the grace of god go i.

i come home and, slightly traumatized, i sit in my chair. life is short. i finish my quilt. i work on my writing, if i have any. i work on my marketing; i'm becoming a pop marketer of my stories. but i'm traumatized. i'm obsessed by the ice out on those roads, and the slope, the dropoffs, the trees, the turns, the angles. i have kids with me about half the time. winter is about half over. basketball season, fortunately, is completely over. the iciest parts of it may be over. but i sit here, still obsessing.

today i took two trips to town. after a snow day, where they'd called off school, i had no idea what condition the roads would be in. they were pretty bad. whole stretches of level straightaway were solid ice; much of the hill was solid ice, going both up and down. much to my surprise there were some clear spots, which i used to my full advantage. my kids know not to make me go faster; that's how things happen like what i saw. you go too fast, you can't stop, you go where your momentum takes you. so i crawl, and i made it to school, both times.

first time, the engine light came on. it was a new car, so i took it straight down the hill. they told me it was a cadillac converter. well, that's actually catalytic converter, but sounds like cadillac converter, they even said it that way. i almost said, hey, if you can convert this into a cadillac, i'll just get me a new life. but i don't want that life. hank williams died in the back of a cadillac; his life was no better than mine, in the end. so, anyway, they'll fix this catalytic converter. and i got groceries and supplies, and headed home.

altogether about a hundred and twenty miles, one trip to town and back (18 + 18), one trip to town and then to alamo and back (18 + 18, 18 + 18), lots of driving on steep roads. but i made it. i saw lots of tow trucks out there. people were getting plenty of business, grabbing these decapacitated cars, and dragging them one place or another. winter will do that, i guess.