Snow Day

The excitement has been building for days. Forecast models began showing the possibility of snow across the Gulf Coast. I have been dreaming of experiencing a really good snow since I was a little girl. I wanted White Christmas complete with sleigh bells. I wanted to build a snowman, to ride on a sled, to throw a snowball, and make snow angels. Every corny Christmas movie scene was attractive to me, and I wanted to experience it all — just once. But as the decades rolled by, I was becoming resigned to the fact that I probably would not.

MyTallerHalf (MTH) is less enthralled with snow than I am. He has seen it. He has experienced it. The sound of snow crunching under his feet sets his teeth on edge. Be sure to make the snow angel first thing, warning me by his tone that it is the last thing I should do. Apparently, they never tell you in the movies that the snow melts, and your back ends up cold and wet.

Our dog shares MTH’s sentiments. I had imagined her barking and leaping to catch snowflakes on her tongue. Instead, she did her level best to avoid any contact with them. Not everyone sees the wonder.

I have been glued to James Spann’s YouTube channel, worried about my citrus trees and the strawberries I had just planted, yet expectant. Day by day, it seemed more certain that it would snow clear down to the beaches. At first, it was half an inch, then one inch, then two. When they reported an improbable six to eight inches, the excitement was palpable.

Yesterday afternoon, it began. It started with a few flakes so small they reminded me of dandruff. I am not completely new to snow. I have seen a few flurries. I remember it snowing in Orlando in 1977. It melted when it hit the ground, but I made a tiny snowman on my mother’s car. I was in college during Snow Jam ’82. The amount of snow on campus was disappointing, but Atlanta was shut down for days. I have seen snow in Montreal when I visited a cabane à sucre with friends. A few flakes fell, and there were mounds of dirty snow frozen solid along the edges of streets and paths. No snow angels, snowmen, or snowball fights were to be had, though we did ride in a wagon pulled by a horse with sleigh bells. That was lovely.

The snow kept coming, faster and harder, with fat flakes easily seen. At first, they dusted the ground, then there were patches of white, and after a couple of hours, there was a proper blanket of snow across our yard. It was so quiet. So perfect. The snow continued to fall.

The world was not completely silent. The birds were frantic. They seemed to sense the oncoming storm and continued to chirp and to empty our feeder as the snow fell. Neighbors, young and not so young, trampled the snow in the street in front of our house. Occasionally, the silence was interrupted by sounds of conversations, laughter, or an excited shout. Some had never seen snow in their lives. Some were reminiscing of past snows. There were no traffic sounds. Everything closed for the storm.

It was still snowing when I went to bed. When I woke up in the middle of the night, it was no longer snowing, but the ground was a thick blanket of white. Inside, it was cozy and warm. Outside, our lilies were covered in snow. MTH said it looked like 4-6″, and that seems about right. It will be a cold day. The snow will not melt right away. I thought of snowmen, snowballs, and snow angels. These are things I will probably not experience in my life, but I am content.

I experienced a really good snow, in Pixley, no less, and like every good and perfect gift, I know it came from our Father. I am still smiling, and I am sure He is smiling, too.

Of Cartwheels and Carts

About thirty years ago, I was walking along the beach with a friend. As we walked and reminisced, I got it into my head that I should do a cartwheel. After all, I had been able to do them easily when I was young. My mind remembered how to do it, how it felt. So I tried it, and I discovered that while my mind might remember how, my body did not. Years, pounds, and babies had changed things. It did not go well. Everything hurt, and I learned a valuable lesson. I might think I can do a cartwheel, but I cannot.

This afternoon, I had finished loading my car with groceries and put the cart in the corral. There was a tornado warning and a severe thunderstorm warning for our area, and I had a long drive ahead of me. I was organizing things in the car when I saw a cart, probably my cart, rolling quickly towards a shiny black pickup truck. I didn’t think. I dashed. Or, at least, I tried to dash. My brain told my body to move quickly to stop that cart. My upper body responded, and I leaned into it, arms pumping, trying to catch the cart. My legs and feet said, We’re sorry, but this service is unavailable at this time.

I realized too late, when my body was heading toward a 45-degree angle with the ground, that I can no longer dash. At that point, my goal was no longer to save the truck but to avoid a pavement facial. Somehow, probably with angelic assistance, I managed to stay upright long enough to catch the cart, inches from the truck, and then to catch my balance. As I turned back to the cart corral, all the other carts were blowing toward me. A woman who witnessed the whole thing looked at me in shock.

I thought you were going to face plant.
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So did I.

I’m so glad you didn’t.

So am I.

By the time I got into my car, my lower back, my neck, my right calf, and my right shoulder were aching from whatever they did to keep me from landing on my face, and I was reminded once again that I can’t do all the things I think I can.

The drive home was uneventful. The three turtles weren’t on their branch. The water is too high. The storms have mostly passed, and now we have nothing but cooler weather ahead of us. My entire body hurts, but it could have been much worse, so I am content. Growing older isn’t easy, but it is better than the alternative!