Ice driving and reindeer

The forecast is not encouraging but we have to leave this morning and drive back to catch our flight out of Boston. Dad reviewed the ice driving techniques.
"If your rear wheels are skidding, turn into the direction you want to go."
I repeated that ten times in my head.
"But," he continued ,"If your front wheels are skidding, turn into the skid."
This seems counterintuitive to me but I repeated it 10 times in my head.
"And take your foot off the gas!" added Mom.
"Well not necessarily," said Dad, "Sometimes you want to keep an even speed or you make the skid worse."
And so on. All I learned is that if I skid on ice, the best strategy is to clasp my hands in prayer and shout, "Jesus take the wheel!"

It's the best strategy on ice and in life.

Saturday, while we were driving from lunch, we saw 3 wooden reindeer in a front yard.

"I love those," I said.

"Me too," said Mom, "I always wanted them. Three of them for the yard."

I had never known that she had wanted them- and here I was, an artist wasting my time on snow foxes that looked like snow pigs when my mother wanted a wooden reindeer. A plan hatched. A tree had toppled in my parents' front yard- all the raw material of a reindeer.

The next morning, after my run, I headed out to the fallen tree with a hand saw. Dad forbid me to touch the chain saw as I had never used one and he was not in the mood to tourniquet a sawed off leg.

I was sweating and huffing before the first cut was even a quarter sawed through my piece of log chosen for the head. But I was determined that this sculpture would be completed before we flew home. You cannot imagine how many times one must saw through a log to collect all the necessary parts of a deer. A real deer could have been born in the time I took to cut and gather my pieces.

Then I picked up my deer assemblage, and headed for the basement. I began sawing and hammering and nailing and almost cussing. Sweat dripped off my brow and things rattled off Dad's work table crashing and spilling on the floor.

My mother ventured down.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I am making a reindeer," I answered,"Can't you tell?"

A log was clamped in a vise and a long bowed stick was dangling from some bent nails.
"Is that a leg?" she asked.
I hammered furiously and the leg fell off.
"Yes."
We looked at the stick as it clattered to the floor with the other deer parts.

"I don't mean to rain on your parade," said Mom,"But this is probably beyond your skill set."

"I could do this," I said,"But Dad doesn't have the right nails, or glue, or saw...."
"Let's go to lunch," she offered," And we can get what you need afterwards."

I bought Gorilla glue, crazy glue, long strong nails and large bandages. Then I returned to the basement. Mom peeked down and asked how it was going.
"Tell Asherel I need her and her duct tape!"

Asherel taped while I hammered and then glued the pieces. The deer was swathed in purple duck tape waiting for the glue to cure.

"Now what?" asked Asherel.

"Now we pray."

A few hours later I carried the deer upstairs.
"Why is he purple?" asked Mom.

"Just wait."

I cut away the duck tape and the deer stood solid and whole, the legs all the same length. His twig antlers ended in little red buds.
He was, in my eyes, the most
wondrous deer ever.

"He's cute," said Mom.

"I won't have time to make you three," I said," But I'll make you another one when I visit in the summer."

There may be ice on the mountain roads as we drive back to Boston to catch our plane, but I am not as scared as I could be.
The Spirit that guided my hands to concoct a reindeer of wood that I had no idea I could build would cover for me if I forgot which way to turn into the skid.

Psalm 57:1
Have mercy on me, my God, have mercy on me, for in you I take refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.
-nothing is impossible with God