It’s snowing here…which isn’t really that shocking for the state I live in. It’s been a gentle snow, smaller flakes falling in that almost fake Hollywood way. The evergreen tree across the road from us has snow-covered branches now and it all looks so pretty, even though I’m certain it’s a mess to drive in.
As much as everyone else complains about it, I love the snow. I think it’s pretty and helps break up the monotony that can be winter. We lived in Arkansas for five years and I never liked how brown winter was there. But here, warm and snug inside, with a mug of hot tea, watching kids outside playing and building snowmen and coming in all red-cheeked begging for cups of hot chocolate – that’s what childhood is about to me. Granted, I was a kid in Chicago, snow was a big part of my childhood. I was six when the Blizzard of ’79 hit. I have vague memories of it – the snow piles being huge, the neighbor’s garage collapsing under the weight of the snow, the fact that we got a white puppy that winter who was never properly housebroken because we could never let him outside alone (think of a white puppy in feet of snow. Doesn’t work.) Eight years later, we had a really cold winter. Temps below zero with wind chills of -30. I remember the dj on the radio about to give the weather report and decided that numbers were pointless. “It’s cold. It’s damn cold. Stay indoors.” That was his report and it was the most accurate weather report I have ever heard. We’ve gotten pretty darn cold here, but haven’t hit damn cold yet. And while I enjoy winter, I’m fine with skipping over the damn cold temperatures.
But right now, it’s just cold and snowing. Not damn cold, and not a blizzard. I wouldn’t mind a blizzard (as long as we didn’t lose power.) I can only imagine what my children could build out there with enough snow!