To be published in The Mississippi Weekender 11/3/06:
The first day of winter is set for December 22 this year. So why does it feel like Old Man Winter has decided to come crash the party early this year?
Let’s face it, besides the green grass, there’s not much left that’s glamorous or beautiful about fall anymore. Now it’s time to wait for the white to come and monochrome our slice of the world for a few months.
It seems that we’re going from tank tops to turtle necks without so much as a three quarter sleeve sweater set in between. Fall fashions will quickly become hidden under uncomely layers of wool, cotton, fleece and thermal. There will be no disguising a smart outfit underneath all the layers. This is about survival, friends.
When I moved here in 2002 I was so charmed by the thought of an actual white winter that I couldn’t wait for those first fluffy flakes to fall. The irony of that year was that we had zero snow on Christmas. My first white Christmas in
When the snow came at last, I played, I snow angel-ed, I slid down the hill outside our house. I reveled in the fresh, crisp snow and how alive the cold snap of the air made me feel. My first white winter in
“Never!” I’d cry with glee and pelt him with a snowball for trying to Grinchify my winter fun.
That year, my party ended when I slid on my saucer down a hill, across an ice patch and into the barbed wire fence at the end of the pasture. Icy barbed wire in the bum does not define winter charm, but it does make for a cool scar.
The following year as I played with my dog, I slipped on an snow-covered ice hill and went down on my left knee cap, cracking it. My dog, in all his excitement, managed to pee on me. Winter fun SO over.
The following year I slid the car off the road a couple of times while learning to maneuver the treacherous paths we call roads during frozen rain storms, blizzards or a combination of both at the same time. The only fun I found in that was using very creative words when begging my car to stay on the road.
So now my knee hurts every winter, and I work from home out of pure fright and need
for life preservation.
If you see me out during the months of the white-out – I’ll be the one in a helmet, elbow and knee protection, spiked shoes for grip and a big long coat to cover my skin so it won’t burn in the wind. Basically, I’ll be the freaky Sasquatch-looking thing until March. See you then, people. Start gathering your nuts.
I live for comments. Send yours to joyce@jkmasylum.com
