…”I’m on my hands and knees, kissing the driveway.”
As we drove into Grand Island under a steady drizzle night before last, I thought to myself, “Man, if it were a couple degrees cooler, this would be a real mess.”
Guess what? Yesterday we woke up and pulled the shades back in our tidy Holiday Express room to reveal four inches of blown snow on the ground, with another 16 inches expected before dark.  SIXTEEN. I was eager to get on the road and get out from under the storm before it got any worse, but Leah wasn’t so sure.
Having driven that very same stretch of road under the very same conditions before, I knew that if one could just punch through for 50 miles or so — even if it meant going 35 on the interstate — you could usually find some dry road. Sure enough, by the time we got to Lincoln, the roads were much better (though it was still snowing). The snow didn’t let up completely until just east of Omaha, and then it was clear sailing all the way home.
Other than the weather, the drive was uneventful. Ava did a great job. Actually, I think she now considers the Volvo as an extra, portable room of our house.
Well, there was one exciting event on the way home. About 60 miles west of Des Moines, I noticed a pillar of black smoke rising into the sky just off the interstate. My first thought was that a car had caught fire, and my suspicions were confirmed as we drew closer to the source of the smoke and saw a motor home engulfed in flames on the shoulder of the westbound lanes. What I assumed was the driver was standing behind the vehicle, talking on his cell phone. I made a mental note at that point that this was a perfect example of a good time to have a cell phone.
I added a couple more pictures to the gallery last night, including some fun ones of two bikini-clad snowbunnies frolicking in a hot tub (well, I restricted access to those two, to be honest). More posts to come as I unpack my brain.