It was a picture postcard scene. The freshly white snow, softly falling on the trees like white icing. The long winding driveway, leading up to the farm house nestled in the pines. The snow was artfully piling up on their branches, making them look like something out of a scene from Snow White.
We turned into the driveway, and the Ford F350 began to creep up the curving snow covered lane.
About one third of the way up, the back end began to slide, and with a soft whoomp, we ended up in the field. Not to worry! I thought, we have 4x4. But try as we might, she was stuck.
What a start to finding a farm today! We all laughed as we climbed down from the truck into the snow and began the trek up to the farm house. Since our agent is family, she joked that not every client got this kind of service.
As we tromped down the laneway, the house came into view. Smaller than we had envisioned from the MLS photos, but neat and clean with it's square lines and white siding. We made our way to the porch. Once inside, it had a cozy cottage like interior. Certainly not the grand Victorian we had dreamed of, but simple and clean. We could certainly work with it, despite the rose coloured carpet and the hospital green walls.
Bundling up against the elements once more, we set out to explore the outbuildings. They certainly more than met our needs. The scenery was breathtaking, and as we made our way back down the driveway toward the truck, we marvelled at the rolling hills and forests.
Now, the question at hand was how to unstuck the truck.
We had the foresight to borrow a shovel from the porch of the farmhouse, and my dear sweet fireman began to dig. And dig. And dig some more. But each time he dug a clearing, the truck would simply slide further into the ditch. The weight of the truck was too much for the incline of the hill combined with the snow.
I heard a slight puttering noise, and looked up to see the neighbour approaching on a small old tractor.
"What are you people doing? This is private property! Are you breaking in the place?" he yelled at us. He must have been about 90, and it was clear he was "watching the house". My dear sweet fireman explained that were looking at the house with our agent.
"Well what kind of idiot agent would drive down this driveway in the snow? What are you city folks?" He chided. Our "agent" smiled and said "I'm the agent". (Later she told me that she wanted to add, and no, we are from the suburbs,... that's worse!)
"You stupid fools," the old man ranted on, "only and idiot would take on this driveway. Do you have a rope even?"
He couldn't be serious. His wee tractor pulling out a Ford F350? But serious he was, and so we roped the two together. Without a word he tried to pull, popping a wheelie several times before he gave up. "Nope. You are on your own", he untied the rope and turned the tractor to leave without another word.
"See you in the spring!" we yelled after him.
So much for making an impression on our potential new neighbour.
We continued to dig, and eventually the truck laboured out of the snow, with a cheer we watched it crawl back along the driveway to the road.
As I climbed back into the truck, I looked at my dear sweet fireman and said "I think this one may be it!"