Winter Weather

As a newly wed, I complained about the weather once, and my farmer husband suggested I ought not to complain about the Lord’s weather. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. His counsel has saved me a great deal of misery down through the years. Complaining does not change the weather. It only makes one more unhappy about the weather, and it presumes you know what the weather ought to be. We do know that the rain fails falls on the just and the unjust, and usually over a long enough period of years, everyone gets a share of good and bad weather—however that can be defined.

With all the bitter cold and deep snows in many parts of the nation, I certainly know I should not complain here in Southern Illinois. And I am not.

On Saturday we had snow on the ground and slick roads, but on Sunday snow had melted, roads were clear, and I left my coat in the car because I did not even need it going into church or Katherine’s house. On Monday we woke to light snow on the ground again. Then it cleared. Yesterday there were tiny flakes coming down at various times through the day, and the many birds were very appreciative of the bird feeder on the deck, but the ground was never covered.

I looked out the bedroom window this morning and saw a lone deer walking through the brown field toward the area on either side of a ditch draining into our lake. Fresh green plants were emerging there where Gerald had planted last fall, and the deer was soon munching happily. It took me awhile to see four dark spots at the edge of that draining area, and I watched quite awhile before one moved and I realized the first deer was not alone after all. When I heard Gerald go out the garage door in that direction to his shop, all five fled to the woods beyond jumping over the fence with white tails flying. That fresh green area is white now from today’s snow.

As it snowed through the morning, the television was announcing that many area schools were dismissing early, but not ours. Gerald had a routine doctor checkup in the afternoon, and he reported that coming home in his truck the roads were slick. So I did not go to the monthly business meeting at our village church as I had planned to do. He says he will take me in the morning at 8:00 for the blood work appointment—made a year ago. I will listen before we go to see if Sam’s school is cancelled tomorrow. And I will have to find out about his band concert tomorrow night.

I know it is bitter cold in Texas where my nieces write the temp on Facebook and did not open their gift shop today urging their customers to stay home and stay warm. It was nice to read that Trevor went up to my sister and brother-in-law’s home and cleared their sidewalk while daughter, granddaughter, and two-year-old Allie provided them company.

The minor inconveniences we have had so far this winter are unimportant, but I do feel great sympathy for those wherever they are with cold houses, cars buried in snow or cars that won’t start, or water pipes frozen—we had that for so many years at the other house when Gerald had difficult days keeping waterers thawed and livestock safe. And I feel great distress for those suffering tornadoes and true calamities, such as floods that break levies and destroy homes and families.. Those are the weather events that try men’s souls and characters. Coping and rising to the challenge of survival is happening all over the nation right now, and that is proving again how tough people can be. Extreme weather certainly is not the weather most of us would choose, but complaining does no good. As Shelley said, if winter comes, spring is on its way.

BRRRRR!

We are iced in here at the farm, but we are warm, well fed, and with electricity. I wish everyone were so blessed.

Yesterday our daughter Katherine phoned and asked if it was pretty looking out our large curtainless windows. Although the roads were covered with ice, the fields were largely brown. I had to say no. But when we woke up this morning, it had snowed several inches, and the white lawn runs downs and joins the white snow-covered lake. It is beautiful. Gerald had filled the bird feeders just in time for this, and we’ve enjoyed watching the hungry ones feast out on our deck. Schools are called off. And kids (and some adults) are enjoying sledding and snow play. Schools are still closed tomorrow.

We had follow-up appointments yesterday with a dermatologist in the Saint Louis area, but we finally made the decision Monday afternoon that we better cancel that rather than go up a day early to try and beat the ice. We’d probably still be stuck up there at Mary Ellen’s if we had not.

We have not had mail nor paper delivery either day. However, Gerald says if we need to go anywhere, we can get out with his pickup. He was out and about clearing sidewalks today with a scraper on the lawn mower. Although he occupies himself with phone calls, photography, reading, and television, he gets cabin fever pretty quickly and finds excuses to pile on the outerwear and go outside for some task or other.

I haven’t been any further than using the washer/drier in the garage, which is pretty chilly right now. I have filed a few papers and written a few notes, but unfortunately, I have not managed to get into a book yet although it would seem this would be the perfect time to snuggle up with one.

I loved snow days when our children were still at home and in school. I loved being isolated, making hot chocolate for them with marshmallows on top, and using the days to work on the family scrapbook when I wasn’t helping them get in and out of snowsuits and boots.

It has been years since I have finished a scrapbook. I have boxes of newspaper clippings and mementoes of grandchildren’s drawings, but I no longer have the ambition to spread them on the dining room table and spend entire days reminiscing and sorting and pasting. I claim I am saving that project for my frail elderly years when I cannot get out of the house even in pretty weather. I suspect I may not be that ambitious then either. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I am enjoying the coziness of watching the weather in the warmth of home.