The New England Language of Salt and Sand

My new next door neighbors are from Florida and we don't have a common language. Today when I was at my desk I could hear them skidding on ice while trying to back out, up an incline. I ran out with my heavy bucket of salt sand (scoop your own) from the highway dept. I started tossing scoops under their gigantic white SUV. Whoa stop! I shouted, scattering sand behind their rear tires. Okay SLOW, I said moving my hands in the forward direction. They went up the hill with a good grip and then stopped and got stuck. I threw more salt and sand and they tried it again. This went on for about seven tries. When they finally were able to get traction I cheered smiling. Love thy neighbor. I came inside and made a cup of hot cocoa from my cocoa powder mixed with sugar and a pinch of kosher salt and some coffee. A hot mocha.