In the small orange-growing town where I grew up we had
one freakish snow storm. One-forth inch
fell; the snow stayed around for the whole day.
The schools closed that day.
Children, with glee and effort made snow angels, snow balls, and snow
men. although we had winter nights when
the temperature fell below 32° this was the only snow that fell in Redlands
during my childhood.
My parents skied in the beautiful nearby San Bernardino
Mountains. They took their children with
them. In those days cold-proof fabrics
weren’t available. I remember trailing
behind my parents on little skis at the age of five. I fell farther and farther behind. My skis slid into an ice saucer formed at the
drip line of a fir tree. I scrambled
out, skis still attached, only to slide back to the bottom. After a number of tries, I gave up. I was freezing. I thought that my parents would forget me
until it was too late. Eventually they
discovered I wasn’t right behind them; they came back to fetch me.
After that, though I dutifully took the skiing lessons,
and made the an obligatory run or two down the slopes, I spent all the time I
could in the lounge. The warmth of the
fire was so welcome. I easily
entertained myself by writing or reading or drawing until the other members of
the family had skied their fill. My big
brother called me the lounge lizard.
I am still a lounge lizard. Our driveway is difficult to drive in icy snow. It is made more difficult by the hill that VDOT leaves at the entrance to the driveway. Once on the roads, driving is almost always easy. Down the driveway, the first car slither is exciting. I feel competent as I remember to turn into the slither. Subsequent slithers, however recall the nightmare of my good car fallen head-first into the icy creek.
I often take counsel of my fears and of my love of heat, and just stay in the warm house. Although I join with friends in decrying the awful weather, I really like hunkering in as long as the heating system works.
I am still a lounge lizard. Our driveway is difficult to drive in icy snow. It is made more difficult by the hill that VDOT leaves at the entrance to the driveway. Once on the roads, driving is almost always easy. Down the driveway, the first car slither is exciting. I feel competent as I remember to turn into the slither. Subsequent slithers, however recall the nightmare of my good car fallen head-first into the icy creek.
I often take counsel of my fears and of my love of heat, and just stay in the warm house. Although I join with friends in decrying the awful weather, I really like hunkering in as long as the heating system works.
My life is interesting and not simple. I need a vacation from it from time to
time. I love the snow, not only for its
cold beauty, not only for its invigorating chill, but also for the excuse for
sloth.
Bring on the snow!
