Winter has arrived...

It's never a good sign when you go out to start the car for work at 5:30am, in the dark, in subfreezing temperatures, and find the doors frozen shut. First I broke a nail. Then with a great deal of exertion, clawing, and colorful language, I finally got the door to give just enough that the interior light came on; of course it was too much to hope for that I could then get the door to re- latch so the light would go off. Dead battery waiting to happen; story of my life.  Finally, I was able to pry the back door open and scramble over the seat, which I'm sure is going to leave several marks in obscure places, to reach the ignition and turn the car on. I turned every dial on high and blasted the vents hoping that by the time I finished my coffee and came back outside, the driver's door would be defrosted and the interior of the car would bear less resemblence to a meat locker. Did I mention that I was doing all of this in 29 degrees without a coat? It wasn't like I'd planned to hang around out there. Who knew that the light coating of snow that fell overnight was encased in a shell of ice? By the time I finished my coffee and did my hair (an exercise in futility as my life is just one long, continuous series of bad hair days) the doors did, indeed, defrost. The rear defogger, however, had decided to go on strike in the interim and the snow covered back window was still frozen solid. Naturally, getting out of my driveway requires that I back up between my husband's van and my son's PT Cruiser...not a good idea with visibility zero! I had, by this time, locked myself out of the house and the ice scraper and snow brush were, you guessed it, in the house. I found a twig (ok it was a huge branch) that had fallen from the neighbor's tree and hacked away at the solid mass covering my back window. Please don't tell my husband, he kind of has this thing about cars and paint and scratches and such. At last, it gave way and slid off of the side of the car with a gloppy sigh, right into my shoes. It's nearly twelve hours later now; my feet are still damp but at least they are no longer blue.