The REAL Winter Wonderland

Ah yes, being on the east coast we heard that we were to get smacked right-hard on the fanny with some winter weather.  The original forecast called for upwards of six inches of that four letter word... S-N-O-W.  Indeed, it inspires shivers in those still frozen from the shenanigans of last winter.  I don't mind it. I don't mind shoveling it, playing in it (especially sledding ~ wooo HOOOO) I learned to drive in it so it's okay, bring it on Mama Nature.  Although it is the other insane "bread-milk-egg buyers " who fly from their driveways like an angry heard of NASCAR drivers pulling from the pits only to apply the "Rubbins Racin" attitude as they blow through lights; can't stop;  fish tail and perform a frightening ballet of icy skids and over corrections that make me a chilly skittish. The thought in their heads that: "Hurry! Hurry!  Buy all the staple foods before society collapses and the gouging street trucks rip up man-hole covers and sewer grates to create a winter gauntlet!" forces my only reply: "Yes.  It DOES look dangerous.  You SHOULD go first."  Then I usually crank up a Peter Paul and Mary Christmas song and  (as you all know) sound JUST LIKE EM.

But this did not happen.  We got rain. Awww okay. I wasn't ready for winter anyway... stupid ole Doppler Radar. Old Man Winter was getting just a few more winks before heading to work. Or so I thought.  To my surprise; however, it was not the case up at Promises.  No.  THAT is where the spanking occurred.  We were all set to head up Wednesday night and enjoy several days together away from the hubbub.  The  weather just was a little too brutal, so we waited, giving the those big gouging street machines time to bite through the snow/ice mix so we could at least SEE the gauntlet we were going to run.  Happily, I report we made it successfully and promptly treated ourselves to a Thanksgiving to beat them all.  Everyone cooked at least one dish and I must confess that I have a house full of talent.  My expand-o-pahnts were sought and happily found.

Not to side track too much, let me come back around: when we arrived we had about eight to ten inches of snow so I had to shovel.  It's my thing.  I shovel the back porch, the toddler habbi-trail and a path to the wood pile.  It was good.  My lungs burned just a little from the wind that whispered temps plunging lower than a neckline on one of Beyonce's dresses.  I shook off my shovel and came in; more than grateful for the roaring fire and the wonderful Barolo wine waiting for me.  It was perfect.  I drank deeply, not just from my wine glass and enjoyed my Winter Promises.  Today, Cheech is making sausage and I am doing some light cooking which will serve as the last for the weekend and writing.  I have two to grind up, marinate and get posted in the coming days.

 Yet Mother Nature wasn't quite finished with us.  Nope.

She sent a little snowy treat; more than a flurry less than a squall.  It was still enough for me to have to go outside and shovel some more... just the porch.  No biggie.  But we had trampled a little icy path and so I had to work a bit to get it to come up after I shoved the new stuff around.  Again, no biggie.  I welcomed the warmth under my six layers (and for those who have been up north with us... you KNOW six is not unusual) from the exercise and enjoyed a little huffing and puffing.

But when I was done? I wanted to be done.  I stopped after the last shovelful and surveyed my tiny although immensely satisfying winter wonderland.  I loved the trees with winter-white gloves and the lake with its coat of snow...

And Mother Nature blew me a kiss.  A gust of wind marched across the lake, dropping snow from the sagging branches and kicking up the fresh, loose powder from the lake into freezing cold biting white out.  It rushed across the water, up the dock and onto the porch.  Oh wait, I forgot to mention it also blasted my face, crammed flakes in between my eye lashes before I could blink, stuffed a rude number of those "not one is the same" crystals down the collar of my coat, inside my sleeves and packed a few extras around my nekkid little ankles; almost drowning my appendages in aching gnawing flakes. Brain freeze that sprung a leak and got out...  Imagine getting caught in front of a snow blower that is cutting out the deepest drift in your driveway. Yeah. AWESOME is right.

And yet I saved my daughter who was almost an iThing zombie until she saw the great white cloud swoop up the porch, beat up her mom and escape over the roof leaving me stiff, bright red and pulling a "Randy" from a Christmas Story "Help me RALPHIE.. I can't ... GEDDUUUUUP!" .  She almost fell off the couch laughing at me which was the instant call to her brother to jump up into the doorway and watch as the woman who carried him for nine months was turned into an instant snowman.  I am grateful to God that he was able to stay upright by leaning on the door jam once the laughter started.

Thank you children.  I am fine.  My  blood has crystals, my eyes won't close and let's not discuss what is the actual content of the icicles dangling from my nose but thank you for asking.  And no, I'm not going to write you out of the will but to receive your inheritance, you will have to perform the equivalent of a keg-stand with a Slurpy machine stationed inside a butcher's walk-in while cloaked in cheesecloth as a ski-resort snow machine blows in from the doorway.  Oh and did I mention everyone in attendance will be in the warm room BEYOND said walk-in, sipping my favorite grog?

Stupid snow.
Dumb Winter.

Oh... wait... SLEDDING?

I'm totally in, let me get my gear... 


I hope that your travels were and will be safe on this holiday weekend.  May you enjoy those that mean the most, laugh uncontrollably and relish a good food coma while crammed into those pants that truly love you and "forgive" if you overeat.  Welcome to the holi-daze.  Get ready. 

I'll see you soon.  Thanks for spending some of your precious time with me.  I appreciate your thinking to stop here.