I am familiar with winter as it is often depicted in movies and shows, with
snow and cold and cars that don’t start. My mother would tell me she loves
living in a place with four seasons, and I would wonder why she felt so fortunate.
Then I would spend all night outside, sledding down the hill next to my house, building snowmen, hiding under the pine tree to stay warm. Bread bags wrapped around my feet kept them warm and dry for the hours I spent outside. When I was spent, I would come inside for hot chocolate or chicken soup.
As much as I complained, those winter moments are some of my most vivid childhood memories.
I write this as the news is abuzz about an arctic freeze coming, threatening below zero temperatures not seen in two decades. Surviving winter is well ingrained in me. I have my warm clothes and blankets packed in the car. The gas tank is full. My home is stocked with milk, bread and eggs…necessary staples people race to the store for before an arctic chill or snowstorm.
As I curl up by the fire, hearing the winds blow outside, I feel cozy. This may be the best part of winter…the forcing you inside to appreciate the people and things that surround you that make it home. That, and it feels great to wear a great big sweater and UGGs.