Good packing snow it is. Watch out! The first snowball will be tossed, but if I’m the thrower you’ll be safe. My aim is terrible.
Whether you are ready or not, the first snow is here. Not necessarily to stay, but it is the harbinger of what is to come.
Thus begins nature’s dance of teasing and tempting, scattering and scouring, blowing and buffeting. Snow. A four letter word that will be exclaimed, exhaled, shouted, and sighed aloud depending on the time and duration of its coming.
Today I’m making a list of all the things done and not done to mark this day. The bedding conditions here are all in order. Flannel sheets are out and extra comforters applied to all the beds. The afghan throws adorn the recliners.
I took advantage of the fill a cart sale on perennials and have redone five beds in NEW varieties of plants. Thus began several days of weeding and planting and mulching. Today all of the flowers are safely tucked in with cedar mulch and ready for their winter nap.
The freezer is full and filling with foodstuffs picked or prepared through the year. Already morning pancakes are accented with blueberries, there is an endless variety of goodies to be baked with the apples down cellar, and new recipes for soups and stew are being acquired. Not only does this food indulge the senses it evokes memories of sunshine and warmer days that have passed.
The day before the snow Russ mowed and mulched the yard one last time. The lawnmower is dismantled and nestled in the new shed with the grandchildren’s bikes. Mulch and planters are stacked in the potting side in readiness for spring. The hammock and deck furniture are stowed in the bulkhead. The basement windows are covered in storms.
New houseplants fill the rooms and cluster by the windows to soak in the sun’s rays. They add oxygen, moisture, and cheer to every room. It’s one of my tricks to keep my spirits lifted as the days shorten and darken.
Turtlenecks and sweaters are emerging from the back of the closet. A puzzle table is permanently set up in the spare room, old VHS are nestled close by the exercise bike, and rug and afghan making materials are assembled.
We missed the snow tire change though. We’re just days away from our appointment. We, too, are joining the multitudes that try to squeeze a few more miles out of tires before investing in another set of snows.
Snow is good for so many of us. Early snow helps hunters track. Lots of snow causes the ski and tourist industry to expand. Late snow helps the maple syrup flow. Two feet of snow is usually welcome during the weekend, not so much during the week, unless you are of school age or in need of a mental health day from work. And snow is always wanted and expected at Christmas.
I awoke last night to a large THUNK coming from the next room. When I sat up Russ said, “It’s just snow sliding off the roof.” Oh, yes, I remember that sound.
Well before 7 a.m. I heard the unmistakable scrap of a plow. I burrowed down under the comforter and snuggled into the flannel sheets while thanking the snow elves in my heart. The snow elves are those burly men in orange who man the plows and ensure that all of us can go on with our lives even if three feet of snow has fallen.
Today the snow has fallen and for me it’s right on time. It made this month’s column deadline.
