I'm married to a man who loves cold weather.
My Manlings would rather play in the snow than swim in the summer.
And I confess....I love snow days.
I really do.
There's just something so peaceful about a cold winter day with snow quietly blanketing the ground. Something refreshing and cleansing.
When I lived in Wyoming, winter storms consisted of howling winds and blowing snow that would drift up to your windowsills and sometimes pile so thick it would stop life cold. I LOVED it. Especially since it meant afternoons huddled by the woodstove in our basement living room, sewing or reading or playing board games with my brother and sister. Very Laura Ingalls Wilder-ish.
Now I live in a little suburban house with no woodstove, no fireplace, and the only winds that blow across the farmer's cornfield down the street usually bring Rain. Lots of Rain. This year it's rained so much that I think we might have beat out Washington for precipitation.
But every once in a while...
...grey clouds will pile up on the horizon, and a cold wind will sweep in. And we'll get a snow that makes the homesickness that never quite goes away almost bearable.
Today is not that day.
There's barely a dusting on the ground. Those clouds look much more fearsome than they are. All bluff and bluster! Still, even as the golden yellow sun breaks through from the other end of the development, I can close my eyes and pretend.
On the upside, the roads are clear, barely wet anymore; and today is Town Day. So I'm off to the bank and the store and Lowe's for paint to get that laundry room done.
And who knows? Maybe those clouds will decide to be ferocious. Maybe God will send MY 18 feet of snow to cover our house and neighborhood.
Or maybe we'll just have to move to Alaska.