Just a little bit flakey...snow flakey and a touch of cabin fever with a dab of spring fever

When it's all white, fluffy and clean. When we are inside and warm and cuddling by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa to warm our hands, little marshmallows floating on top looking like tiny icebergs...we tend to think of winter in an almost romantic way. We view the season in a different light. The snowflakes alight on the whiskers of kittens, or so we imagine. We bundle up and lay in the white feather-like mounds making angels. We giggle and laugh and literally embrace the cold and clean loveliness. Yes, that that is a part of winter that all of us adore. It's the part of winter that we yearn for when we are away from our northern home during the Christmas holidays. Songs are written about it and we sing those songs with friends and a tear in our eye when we long for the comfort of our childhood nest, the one our mother made for us when we were mere babes.


But, there is another side of winter. The ugly, mean, dirty and necessary part of winter when it begins to die as it is giving birth to the tiny smatterings of spring, a season yearned for after the cold and snow and high heating bills. We are tired of the dust and dirt when we clean out the fireplace. We tell ourselves that if we have to shovel one more pile of "that stuff" we will go crazy running from door to door on our block asking our neighbors if we can go to Disneyland with them and their kids for Easter break! We listen to the weather forecast wrinkling our nose at the mere mention of more of the stuff falling from the sky, the same sky that radiates the warmth of the sun. The sun that takes away the winter blues, leaving us with rosy cheeks and happy smiles.

Yes, there is a nasty, dark, dirty, messy and unwanted part of winter and right now, at this very moment, it is knocking on my door. I went out to meet it the other day and even spent some of my precious time cleaning up some of the mess it leaves behind. But right now I am hiding. I am warm and the sun is shining through the lace curtains in my dining room and I am pretending that it is summer and that my yard is green and that my tulips are blooming and that, if I wanted to, I could just open my back door, walk out into the sunshine WITHOUT my coat, and mittens, and boots, and muffler, and my winter survival tote that contains a flashlight, extra blanket, an extra cell phone battery (fully charged), a pack of power protein bars, and a pencil and paper to compose my farewell letter to friends and family, just in case no one comes to my rescue if I get stuck in that white stuff and no one ever hears my pitiful cries for help as the snow continues to bury me...my pathetic, curled up body not to be found until the spring thaw.


Or...maybe I'll tackle "every" part of winter...the beginning...and the end, through the eyes of a child. My grandson, Benny, knows how to enjoy each and every part of the season, no matter how he has to dress, or how dirty the snow looks, or how wet his socks get, or how cold his hands are (even when they are in his pockets), with a sense of joy and anticipation, looking forward to how many boats he'll be able to sail in his parents' backyard.