Snow

New Year' Eve dawned. Right, there's no way to actually finish that sentence because New Year's Eve never really did dawn; there was just a lessening of the dark by a bit. It was gray, wet, ugly and warm. Yes, warm, in Michigan on December 31st. It was so warm that I had to go out and buy ice for my cooler to keep all my New Year's Eve drinks cold. The mud, puddles and smell of damp put me in a foul mood. It was so ugly out that I felt like yelling at someone.

I won't say that all that warm rain ruined New Year's Eve; I am a woman who knows how to rise above her circumstances. I will say though, that on the evening of New Year's Day as we walked out into a gorgeous snow globe world in my friends' front yard, my girls and I were moved to break into song on the front porch. I hadn't even know that snow was predicted and it was a lovely surprise.

Now I'm sitting on the front edge of "the storm of the century," and I say, "Bring it!" I'm so excited that we might get a foot of snow. The only thing I like more than a foot of snow... is two feet of snow! I love how quiet it is when it's snowing. Cars go by and you don't even hear them. It's a kind of quiet that you don't get in modern times. When I'm out in the snow I don't hear that hum that is a constant part of modern life.

Snow is magical; it turns ugly lumps of old lawn furniture in my back yard into smooth, elegant statues. It covers my many landscaping sins in a blanket of diamonds. Snow and ice make the sad looking bare branches of the maples and oaks sparkle and shine with joy. Mountains appear where there once was flat, barren parking lot.

I used to hear people say, "At least you don't have to shovel it," whenever it rained in the winter, but if it weren't for the fact that we have to get out and shovel, I'd never see my neighbors all winter long. We may not stand out and chat as long as we do in the summer, but at least we check in a bit. I love how all the old guys with big snowblowers come out and try and outdo each other clearing sidewalks and old lady's mailboxes. I also love that shoveling snow is a good reason to let myself off the hook from having to work out!

So, I'm going to build a fire, pour a glass of wine, let my son stay up late and enjoy the forced slowdown to life that a good winger storm brings. Unless, of course, the power goes out, but I won't be able to post a blog about that so you'll never hear me whining.