I haven't packed away the sleds and heavy winter coats yet. I thought about it last week. When I was sweeping around the mess of boots inside the front door and picking up (yet again) the tangle of snowpants that somehow landed on the floor. I thought about it as we squished through the mud on our afternoon walk back from the library. And it almost convinced me when I discovered the day lily bulbs peaking through the mud in our neighbours yard. But yes, I resisted the temptation.
And supposedly today we are supposed to get about 14 inches of snow. All the schools are cancelling and everybody is hoping for what we've always come to believe in as a good ol' fashioned snow day. This year hasn't really been much to speak of in terms of "winter." At least not for these northern states where in January the snow hovers somewhere around my knees and doesn't disappear until a good thaw sometime in March. Well. I guess that is me, stretching the truth again. That is how it USED to be around here. And admittedly we haven't seen anything like that in years. I contemplated how useful winter boots would be this year, really hummed and hawed as to whether I should make that leap and become a person who actually owns them. And I decided my rubber boots would be fine enough for another year. I'm glad I came to that conclusion because they really weren't needed. Again.
A few years back (Ok, more then seven now...) when we were stuck in Virginia for a portion of the winter I decided I could really live with the moderate temperatures and ease of no snow that was there. I'd been living too many years buried in the stuff and shovelling out the door so I could tromp to work through the empty streets in Portland. And low and behold, here we are. Years later, and the weather (along with global warming) has decided to heed my wish. But you know, I want to take it back. I really miss the winters from when I was a kid. The just plain magic of being snowed in. A marvelous excuse to stay home and make soup and bread, sit by the fire and play games. Making snow men with my brother and agreeing reluctantly to go skiing with my mom. (In later years, however, I volunteered for that one all on my own. Sometimes. Alright, alright, I'm lazy in terms of out door physical activity, I know.)
So I hope we get a doozy today. I hope it snows so hard and long that we have to shovel out our neighbour's door.
I'm not holding my breath though.