A vent to my beloved.

Dear Husband,
My car won't start. Even though at 10pm last night, when it was -17 out, the neighbor put the battery charger on and I plugged in the block heater, twelve hours later, it is still a no go.

I made my way to your truck. There it sat, cold, covered in 12 inches of hardening snow. I opened the door. I am now covered in 4 cubic feet of snow. Apparently, it followed the door from the roof. I climb in, dumping snow all over your cold leather seats. Ha ha.
With fingers crossed, I put the key in the ignition. Good news, it's dinging. I wait for the engine light to turn off. Diesels and their start procedures, must not disregard the start procedure. It's a go. I turn the key. NOTHING! I have nothing. This is akin to sitting on the shuttle pad waiting to launch only to hear that it's to cold. No go. The launch has been scrapped.

Disappointment and the not so good feeling of knowing you don't have any wheels has set in.

I trudge past the boat. The boat that sits in front of the fence that is sheltering the four wheeler with it's plow. The plow I could have used during the last few weeks of heavy snow fall. The plow I can't get to. The now unused plow covered in snow. So close, yet completely unattainable for me to get out.

I then walk past the Excursion, my beastly car for the last 7.5 years. The giant paperweight. Lifeless, heartless, hunk of cold steel.

There is sits. In front of the garage. Why in front and not in? It's a garage. A heated, large garage. Large enough to fit my car. To house it from the cold Alaskan winters and keep it snow free. Why then does my car sit dead outside? Unable to move your wife and children. No movie theater today. No grocery shopping.

The day is a complete No Go.