Do not for one minute think this means you have won.

I am speaking, of course, about my beloved Mommyvan and the woeful decision I now face either to replace her (sniff) or spend the balance of winter trapped in my house.

The awful truth is that, under even the faintest whisper of snow, the poor Mommyvan simply is not equipped to make her way down the driveway.

We won’t even talk about getting up the driveway. No, we won’t. You can’t make me. She’s probably listening.

If we lived closer to town, she would be more than adequate for getting around. She’s young and still purrs like a dream.

She loves to take long trips and I often have to scold her about trying to drive too fast on the open highway.

She runs quietly, as if to say, "Here, let me help get the girls down for a nap so you can listen to NPR on our way."

But, no, we live up the valley, where the streets stay whiter, slushier and slicker than more well-traveled lanes.

And our driveway is a masterpiece of short, steep engineering. The other two vehicles in my driveway are Jeeps. They have no problem climbing up the drive in any condition. [an error occurred while processing this directive]