Surviving a Winter Wonderland

Little did I realize that between a 16 year stint in Arizona and a 4 year stopover in Houston, that I had romanticized the whole notion of winter. Mostly, I guess, because I wanted my two kids, who have never lived in a seasonal climate, to experience the wonder of winter. I wanted them to enjoy a white Christmas, to know what it's like to catch a snowflake on their tongues, and sled down a snowy hill.

Last Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, I took the kids for their first real snow sledding adventure at one of our city parks. With temps hovering around 15 F, we bravely marched through the park's ankle-high snow and up a big, tree-covered hill. I truly enjoyed watching them sled down the hill and learn certain nuances of sledding- like how to safely eject from a sled before hitting a tree. After two hours in the frozen tundra, my ears, feet, and hands were so cold, they felt like they were going to snap like a dry twig. But, I reminded myself how much the kids loved the snow, and felt comforted. That was last week.

This week, the temperatures plunged even lower and last night, with the thermometer barely above zero, I was out shoveling new-fallen snow. After 20 minutes of shoveling, I looked down the unshoveled portion of the driveway. It looked like an aircraft carrier deck, only white. But I kept shoveling, all the while reminding myself how great it was to experience winter again.

After stooping over a shovel for an hour, I finished the chore and trudged to the house like a bent-over gnome. Once inside, a frostbitten fire ignited in my hands, feet and ears, so that I temporarily forgot that I looked like Quasimoto. I plunked down in a living room chair and after blood finally broke through ice-dammed arteries to reach my frozen extremities, I came to the sudden realization that winter doesn't begin for 3 weeks. Ahh...the joys of winter...

I wonder if there are any cheap flights to Phoenix....