January is already windin’ down. Wasn’t too bad. The usual: cold, dark and long. February, or snow month as is call it up here in Mahoosuc Mills, is blessedly short. Though February 2015 seemed to go on forever, didn’t it?
Don’t get me wrong. There are things I love about winter in Maine. Snowmobiling with my honey under clear blue skies, bean suppers down to the Congo church, yummy stews.
But I have to tell you, the thing I don’t like about winter is the disappointment. You know, having my expectations buried under a foot of the white stuff. Getting all jazzed up about some event, really looking forward to it, outfit all thought out, then being crushed when a snow storm comes and ruins my plans. I mean it’s Maine. It’s winter! Snow’s normal. After all these years, you’d think I’d be better able to roll with it.
Yet, I can really get to obsessin’ about the weather, especially if there’s an event comin’ up. My computer and smart phone don’t help. Now I’m checkin’ the weather off and on all day startin’ a week out. OK, maybe I take a gander at the ten day forecast, too. Why? Because I can. It’s as if the more I check the weather, the more control I somehow have over it. Like by sheer force of will, I can change that symbol from snow, sleet or freezin’ rain to partly cloudy or dare I hope, that little drawing of the sun, which will magically turn my frown upside down. I mean, come on! Who do I think I am?
When you’re a kid, of course, a snow storm is somethin’ all together different, right? It means a day off from school, snow angels, snow men, snow forts: fun! I still remember going to bed prayin’ to God there’d be no school tomorrow, and wakin’ up to find my prayers answered.
Hot dog! Break out the Michelin man snow suits, Flexible Flyers and flying saucers. And after a long day of snowy rough and tumble, home to the smell of wet wool and hot chocolate. Off with the snow boots, on with the pichous (them cozy slippers with pompoms knit by mémé).
When you’re a kid, a snow storm (especially on a school day), means all is right with the world. The triumph of fun over boredom. As an adult, it’s just something you have to deal. It’s means getting out the snow blower and shovel (or in my case, watchin’ Charlie do that, God love him). It’s worrying about how the roads are goin’ to be to and from work. Will you be able to get in the driveway when you get home, or will the mountain of snow left by the town plow be to big to scale.
At those times, a snowstorm can feel like the universe is out to get me. When I’m checkin’ the weather for the umpteenth time that day, studyin’ the hour-by-hour forecast and seeing that the storm will be at it’s peak just when that party was supposed to start. When I have a special outing planned (has been for several weeks) on the only stormy day in a week of smilin’ sunshine.
So, I’ve decided to reach back into my childhood to see if I can borrow that spark of excitement for upcomin’ snow storms. I know, that’s a pretty tall order. But that party will be rescheduled. Our shoppin’ trip can be, too. How about goin’ with the flow, Ida? Turnin’ that unexpected night at home into a special, hunker down with my honey in the Barcalounger love seat with some baked beans and homemade biscuits, watchin’ a movie kind of evenin’. Maybe it’s the universe conspirin’ to help me slow down and smell the hot chocolate. Maybe that’s what winter’s all about, anyways.
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Snow Day