Winterspring
Another new year has arrived. The holidays are over. Christmas is three-hundred-plus days away - and fifteen days in the past. The Christmas tree, once the focus of dazzled, holidazed eyes no longer glows magically in the corner of the family room. This former centerpiece of family, friends and good times now lies unceremoniously dumped by the curb awaiting the garbage man. I hope he gives the thing a proper burial; may it decompose in peace (DIP) and rejoin the natural world from which it was so rudely plucked.
Unless you're a big Valentine's Day nut, there isn't much to look forward to until spring. Spring around here is just the second chapter of winter.
Another new year has arrived. The holidays are over. Christmas is three-hundred-plus days away - and fifteen days in the past. The Christmas tree, once the focus of dazzled, holidazed eyes no longer glows magically in the corner of the family room. This former centerpiece of family, friends and good times now lies unceremoniously dumped by the curb awaiting the garbage man. I hope he gives the thing a proper burial; may it decompose in peace (DIP) and rejoin the natural world from which it was so rudely plucked.
Unless you're a big Valentine's Day nut, there isn't much to look forward to until spring. Spring around here is just the second chapter of winter.
Thing is... I really like Winter!! And I would love nothing more than to moan and whine about the cold, dark days ahead. It would, at least, give me something to do. January and February aren't exactly the kind of months that make normal people feel all warm and fuzzy - at least not here in the Hooville. If you're the kind of person who likes gloomy days and icicles hanging from your nose you should be in your glory right about now.
But, Hooville is a cold, nasty, wet, windy place about seven months a year. Hearty souls like me are either nutjobs who choose to live here on purpose; or were born here and don't have the money to get out - the yuppies have your share and are yukking it up at the ski lodges with it.
Since we have seven months of crummy weather, we learn to amuse ourselves with stuff like reading, TV, knitting, dominoes, cleaning, and if the weather's not too terribly atrocious, venturing out in the cold, wind and snow to have dinner or (Heaven forbid) traipse around the mall, look at aluminum siding and cell phone kiosks. If we're lucky we can even pick up a few pamphlets. That usually kills most of a winterspring afternoon. If you go to bed when it gets dark (that would be around 5:30PM ) you won't have to worry about killing anymore winterspring until morning - which comes around 8:00AM - if at all. Most of the time it's so gloomy you can't tell when the sun rises. Sun? What's that?
In case you're wondering, which you're probably not, winterspring is a new season I have invented.
But, Hooville is a cold, nasty, wet, windy place about seven months a year. Hearty souls like me are either nutjobs who choose to live here on purpose; or were born here and don't have the money to get out - the yuppies have your share and are yukking it up at the ski lodges with it.
Since we have seven months of crummy weather, we learn to amuse ourselves with stuff like reading, TV, knitting, dominoes, cleaning, and if the weather's not too terribly atrocious, venturing out in the cold, wind and snow to have dinner or (Heaven forbid) traipse around the mall, look at aluminum siding and cell phone kiosks. If we're lucky we can even pick up a few pamphlets. That usually kills most of a winterspring afternoon. If you go to bed when it gets dark (that would be around 5:30PM ) you won't have to worry about killing anymore winterspring until morning - which comes around 8:00AM - if at all. Most of the time it's so gloomy you can't tell when the sun rises. Sun? What's that?
In case you're wondering, which you're probably not, winterspring is a new season I have invented.
Anyway, here I am, stuck in Hooville, in January, with nothing to do but wait for spring. When it comes it will be just another act in winter's cruel play: "Winter Act II - The Struggle of the Tulips."
The other day, refusing to acquiesce to the gloomy boredom, I decided to take a walk in what the Weather Channel described as "bitterly cold wind chills". Now, those of you who think the word walk means walking from your car to the entrance of Wal-mart have no idea of what kind of prep it takes to get ready to walk in "bitterly cold wind chills". Let's just put it this way - if you plan on walking at 4:00PM then you better start getting ready to walk at 3:30PM. A one-hour walk in the Hooville winter equals two hours of time - one hour of walking and one hour prepping and deprepping (grammarians start your howling).
I digress. I can almost FEEL the blood pressure puffing up your carotid arteries as you read this. "What a lame brain this nut is. Doesn't she have anything better to do but whine about her stupid walking in cold weather. Get a life." To you I say "Tsk! Tsk!". Whining is what we do best in Hooville- especially in winter.
After putting on my UnderArmor stuff that covers every possible square inch of things that might get cold, I put on a sweatshirt, sweatshirt jacket with hood, hat, winter coat, waterproof winter walking shoes - and before you think I'm pandering to your baser instincts - yes I had on pants.
I walked out the door dressed for the arctic as it used to be before global warming (insert a chortle here) - a polar bear's delight. The Weather Channel's idea of "bitterly cold wind chills" and mine differ. After twenty-minutes of walking, I was sweating. Under my sweatshirts, coats, beloved UnderArmor and multiple layers of clothing, my body was entirely covered by a layer of moisture that only those who love the musky scent of dirty, sweaty athletes would enjoy.
There is nothing worse than sweating under fifteen layers of clothing while you're outside in the middle of winter. It makes you feel like you're coming down with bird flu. Speaking in more appropriate medical terms - it makes you feel funny. I was sweating and feeling like I was getting sick and I still had a million miles to go.
I digress. When I walk I have goals. Unless I drop dead in the middle of a walk, I continue walking no matter what. I'm happy to say I have not dropped dead even once during a walk - yet. This pleases me much more than it pleases you, I'm sure.
The other day, refusing to acquiesce to the gloomy boredom, I decided to take a walk in what the Weather Channel described as "bitterly cold wind chills". Now, those of you who think the word walk means walking from your car to the entrance of Wal-mart have no idea of what kind of prep it takes to get ready to walk in "bitterly cold wind chills". Let's just put it this way - if you plan on walking at 4:00PM then you better start getting ready to walk at 3:30PM. A one-hour walk in the Hooville winter equals two hours of time - one hour of walking and one hour prepping and deprepping (grammarians start your howling).
I digress. I can almost FEEL the blood pressure puffing up your carotid arteries as you read this. "What a lame brain this nut is. Doesn't she have anything better to do but whine about her stupid walking in cold weather. Get a life." To you I say "Tsk! Tsk!". Whining is what we do best in Hooville- especially in winter.
After putting on my UnderArmor stuff that covers every possible square inch of things that might get cold, I put on a sweatshirt, sweatshirt jacket with hood, hat, winter coat, waterproof winter walking shoes - and before you think I'm pandering to your baser instincts - yes I had on pants.
I walked out the door dressed for the arctic as it used to be before global warming (insert a chortle here) - a polar bear's delight. The Weather Channel's idea of "bitterly cold wind chills" and mine differ. After twenty-minutes of walking, I was sweating. Under my sweatshirts, coats, beloved UnderArmor and multiple layers of clothing, my body was entirely covered by a layer of moisture that only those who love the musky scent of dirty, sweaty athletes would enjoy.
There is nothing worse than sweating under fifteen layers of clothing while you're outside in the middle of winter. It makes you feel like you're coming down with bird flu. Speaking in more appropriate medical terms - it makes you feel funny. I was sweating and feeling like I was getting sick and I still had a million miles to go.
I digress. When I walk I have goals. Unless I drop dead in the middle of a walk, I continue walking no matter what. I'm happy to say I have not dropped dead even once during a walk - yet. This pleases me much more than it pleases you, I'm sure.
Sweating like a triathlon participant, I kept walking in the Weather Channel's "bitterly cold wind chills". Suddenly, it began to snow. It was the kind of snow that Currier and Ives dreamed about - large, fluffy flakes falling from a leaden sky. There was no wind at all - no wind chill at all - nothing but a beautiful winter scene unfolding before my eyes. The landscape was being painted by nature's gentle brush and I was lucky enough to watch her paint.
An epiphany shook me and shivers ran through me - how lucky I am to be alive and how lucky to witness a perfect winter scene. Hooville winters are long and dark and sometimes boring. They're monotonous, cold, wet and dreary - sometimes they are ugly and they are always too long. We don't have spring anymore - we have Winter Major and Winter Minor which I call Winterspring. That's just the way it is in the forest.
There is nothing so ugly that you cannot find some beauty in it; nothing so dark that you cannot find light in it. I would not trade this serene, soft, winter scene unfolding before my eyes for all the palm trees in Tahiti. There is love wherever you look; there is beauty in everything; there is peace in the wildest storm. You can look at everything and see it in whatever light you want. We all decide how we will look at thing. Love, beauty, light and peace are everywhere and we decide how we want to look at things. Sometimes you find the most beautiful things when you are not looking at all.
An epiphany shook me and shivers ran through me - how lucky I am to be alive and how lucky to witness a perfect winter scene. Hooville winters are long and dark and sometimes boring. They're monotonous, cold, wet and dreary - sometimes they are ugly and they are always too long. We don't have spring anymore - we have Winter Major and Winter Minor which I call Winterspring. That's just the way it is in the forest.
There is nothing so ugly that you cannot find some beauty in it; nothing so dark that you cannot find light in it. I would not trade this serene, soft, winter scene unfolding before my eyes for all the palm trees in Tahiti. There is love wherever you look; there is beauty in everything; there is peace in the wildest storm. You can look at everything and see it in whatever light you want. We all decide how we will look at thing. Love, beauty, light and peace are everywhere and we decide how we want to look at things. Sometimes you find the most beautiful things when you are not looking at all.
Guess I'll stop whining for now................
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