"When I write stories I am like someone who is in her own country, walking along streets that she has known since she was a child, between walls and trees that are hers." --Natalia Ginsburg

Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Winter Schminter!!

So Christmas is over and I am already feeling bah-humbug…not about Christmas though.  Following ‘the most wonderful time of the year’ closely is a huge messy snowstorm---I have always had mixed feelings about winter. I love the heat and dancing flames from a woodstove. There is a coziness to the shorter days and longer lamp lit evenings spent reading, or watching the snow come down. I love making soups and homemade bread to warm and feed the little bellies I care for. Playing board games with the school kids and cuddling in blankets and watching movies with the toddlers.

I stood at my open door one night last winter and watched in wonder as the snow came down like sugar, it was so quiet I could hear it landing---and was tempted to reach down and taste it. I took a deep breath letting my lungs fill with cold air purified by the snow---so delicious you can’t possibly take a big enough whiff. Another day I was delighted for the kids as it fell in huge flakes that lay heavy on the ground just begging to be made into a snowman or fort.

I have good memories of snow and winter as a child. Making snow angels with my sister Donna as big fat flakes fell on our faces, and laughing as they fell into our open mouths. Other times I remember lying still on the ground watching the stars in that huge velvet sky, the warm smells and comforting sounds coming from the open door of the barn as Dad and the boys finished the evening chores.

As children my siblings and I would go sliding with half a dozen neighbors and stay out until our feet and fingers ached from the cold. Mom would sometimes warm us by letting us wrap our arms under her cardigan and around her waist. I remember windows etched with fern and feathers compliments of Jack Frost.

I sometimes wish I was of a species that hibernates so I could avoid the cold —and sometimes I wish I could revert to childhood and enjoy the wonder and delight of falling snow. As I look out the window-- the child in me rises up and I vow to make a snowman when the next snowfall comes and the snow is just right---- snow-angels? Umm, no......not with these hips.

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