It snows, and as soon as it melts, it snows again. Melts, snows again...sometimes snows before it melts. I am so sick of winter! Two days ago I was so happy that I could see even the dull yellow grass and mud and had hopes that we would have a break from the white stuff for awhile. Nope. We were once again buried. Yesterday was quite cold, but bright and sunny and I hadn't looked at the weather report so was very displeased to see snow falling down heavily last night when I got up to get a glass of water.
Some people love the snow. I have never been one of those people. When I was a kid I hated boots and heavy coats. I fought my parents about wearing these really ugly over-the-shoe boots when I was a kid. I hated taking them off and on. I hated how they made me feel like I was walking with buckets on my feet. I later talked my Mom into high-fashion knee-high boots when I was a teenager, promising to wear them. But a few times of taking those on and off at the locker and I didn't want to wear those anymore, either. I would rather have cold feet. Now it's different...I HAVE to have warm feet or they hurt very much.
I have a few not-so-good winter weather-related stories from the past. When I was a kid I often walked home from school. It was an eight-block walk and seemed like a million miles in cold weather. And the bullies made it even worse. These punks would make ice balls and whip them at me and my friends all the way home. One day an ice ball hit me right in the face and eyes. It hurt so bad! The bullies laughed their butts off as I cried and wiped ice from my stinging face. I was little...about 8 or 9. There were other incidents such as these. Ice shoved down my neck. Shoved down on the slick ice as I walked across the playground.
The most recent winter weather event that was almost disasterous was when I hit a patch of black ice on I-80 in 1993 and slid right through a guard rail. Had an ambulance ride to the hospital after being knocked unconscious for a bit from the air bag. The air bag saved me though, things could have been much worse. Now I am afraid to drive in snow and ice. I still do it but by the time I reach my destination, I have to practically pry my fingers off the steering wheel.
I do have some fond memories of snow, all revolving around home and my own backyard. We were sickly kids . . . .asthmatic. So, my dad would go out and shovel and afterwards make us a big snowman. We watched him build it through the windows the whole time. He would start with a little snowball (after throwing a couple of snowballs at the window to make us duck and laugh), and we would watch him roll that little snowball into a gigantic one, then he would do that twice more to make the body. Then he would add things mom gave him like a babuska, rocks for teeth and eyes, carrot for a nose and he would get sticks for arms. He seemed to enjoy himself.
Our three kids loved the snow and couldn't wait to go out and play in it. Our dog back then, Trooper went absolutely crazy in the stuff, eating it while rolling in it at the same time. But I didn't really go out there and join in with the kids. We had a fenced yard, and. I watched from inside. They didn't mind, though. They were on an "arctic adventure" or some other imaginary quest. They would come in afterwards all red-cheeked, and I would have cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows waiting for them.
Now that I am older, I do love how pretty the snow is to look at, and how it sparkles like diamonds are scattered on it when the sun shines. But I do not like going out into it. I am afraid I am going to fall down. The coldness makes me tense up. This winter is just lasting too long. I am looking forward to spring when I can plant flowers and sit on my swing on the deck and feel the breeze on my face.