Snow and Humble-Pie

I grew up in a place where the winter season most usually meant sleet, snow, ice, and the muck you've got to deal when it all melts. Every year my siblings and I looked forward to prancing about when the flurries started to fall, making snowmen, having snowball fights, sledding, and one year, walking across our pond when it froze over 6 inches thick.

When I was in high school my family moved south. Far south. Just about as south as one can get and still remain in the continental U.S. My siblings and I were aghast to realize that when winter rolled around in the south, all it meant was the threat of really cold weather, and if we were lucky...maybe a few flakes of snow. To a kid, this is a dreadful discovery. No more sledding. No more snowball fights. No more "snow days" that would make the world come to a halt and require mandatory free time.

In contrast to our disappointment, our Mother was elated. She HATED winter and cold with a fierce passion. She was after all the woman who created the holiday "Winter's Half Over"...at least for our family. Yes, she calculated the exact day that winter, on the calendar at least, was officially half-over. This "holiday" meant that for a couple hours we would crank up the heater, put on summer clothes and flip-flops, and meet together with beach towels spread on the floor for a picnic of summery foods. The Beach Boys was the music of choice to serenade our celebration. Looking back, I think Mom "Winters Half Over" day was for her a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Her extreme desire for winter to be over was something we laughed at for many years.

This is my first year to be back in a region that is prone to the kind of winters I grew up with. Anticipating potential snow, I could see myself dizzy with excitement at the flurries, then the accumulation of the white stuff. At least I was imagining the romance of winter from my perspective as a child.
Well, it's here.
The rain that came for a day turned into a lovely sheet of ice, and then it snowed several inches to boot. Though thankful for a working heater, hot water (thank the Lord for hot showers!), and clothing to layer up in...I'm still cold. I am now haunted by childhood memories mocking my dear Mother's misery. Dear friends, perhaps I am a bit more like my Mother than I ever wanted to admit.

Watching the snow fall was a beautiful thing to see, and it sure looks nice covering the ground, but today marks day 3 of my being cold and house-bound. The roads were clear enough for hubby to go to work today, but I am too cautious to venture out. If it were just me, I might bundle up for a walk or attempt to make it to the grocery store for an outing. But it's not just me. My normal adventurousness is rather subdued with the gravity of baby's safety. Does worrying come with motherhood? Or it is just sin? Probably the latter. Regardless, I can just imagine that my car would careen into some ditch and I'd be stuck in the cold for longer than I should. :-p

For today, I think the safest plan of action is to pull out the calendar, and plan for my own Winter's Half Over party. While I'm at it, I may put on another layer of clothes, throw on a Beach Boy's record, bake some chocolate chip cookies, and settle down with a good book. Oh yes, and call my Mom. I should thank her for creating a fantastic childhood memory of getting to wear a Hawaiian shirt and shorts, drink lemonade, and dance around to "Surfin' Safari" while the winds howled and the snow fell.


P.S.
With the onslaught of cold weather, we had 2 very large rat sized mice try and move into our home to avoid the cold. I do not like mice. Especially when they are similar in size to the R.O.U.S from the cult-classic "Princess Bride". I am blessed to have a husband who defended me and child in-utero from the invading beasts. My hero!