I didn’t intend to write about snow, mostly because I’m sick of it and it’s making me cranky. I’m over the April’s fool’s joke from Mother Nature. Let’s get on with spring.
The last couple of winters have spoiled us and apparently we have forgotten we live in the Midwest, where the seasons can change on a dime. Granted, snowfalls like we’ve seen recently are typically spread out across the winter months and not all dumped in April and frankly, I’d rather have seen it in February before I put my winter clothes away.
I’m blaming the snow, not only for my mental state, which has included a lot of naps, but also for my constant headache, as I’m pretty sure the inside of my nose has dried up from not having enough fresh air. I’m carrying around so much static electricity I’m scared to touch anything from fear of being shocked. The only exercise I’ve had in a week is walking from the office to the pantry to see what else I can eat that is covered in chocolate.
The kids’ think it’s a joke when I say, “I used to walk a mile to school in a foot of snow,” but really it’s not. I remember winters when the ground was white all season and we walked to school, regardless of whether it was snowing or not. Quality time was spent in the evening listening to the radio in hopes school would be canceled so we could dedicate our time to building an igloo that would stay intact for months at a time. Is it my imagination or does it seem as though falling snow stresses people out more nowadays and we don’t have nearly as much of the white stuff as we used to?
Watching the tree limbs load up with the snow brought back memories of the ice storm some years ago when everyone’s electricity was knocked out for days. The first night my youngest daughter (who was in high school at the time) and I decided we could make it without a furnace. Sleeping in a double bed with her, two dogs and six blankets convinced me it wasn’t going to work. The next day we made our way to my parents’ house, hoping to stay with them, to find they didn’t have electricity either.
Eventually I rented a hotel room for all of us and believe me there was enough hot air flying around we didn’t need the furnace. Between my daughter whining about sharing a room with her grandparents and them complaining about not having cable TV, I contemplated whether or not freezing would have been a better option.
Having made multiple trips to the car and back to get everyone’s belongings, I was soaking wet from the freezing rain. I had a change of clothes but unfortunately forgot to bring an extra bra and with no way to dry it, I decided to try the microwave.
It wasn’t like I was burning my bra in protest but when smoke started billowing out of the microwave, I did manage to bridge their generation gap and relieve the stress.
Who knew underwires would come in so handy when stranded in an ice storm.
Sandy Turner is a GateHouse Media columnist.