Winter Blues

 Published in The Packet

Imagine a beautiful winter day, two months ago. 

I rise from my bed, throw open the curtains, and gaze in awe at the falling snow.  It is angelic, heavenly, and ethereal! The pine trees are noble bearing branches heavy with white.

I hum carols under my breath, and whip up some hot chocolate, and feel sorry for all the friends and family who I have living in a perpetual world of green and heat. What a magical season they are missing! We bundle up and take pictures of snowmen and sled rides.

“Look at us, living in a beautiful snow globe!” I whisper to my husband, utterly enchanted by Newfoundland winter.

Flash forward to this morning.

I groggily rise from bed, desperate for a glass of water. I feel like a dried cod, thanks to the necessary months of heated air. I pessimistically open the curtains and sigh.

It is still snowing.

The dastardly snow no longer resembles anything beautiful. It reminds me of dandruff.

Snow clearing...bleh

“Oh the weather outside is frightful,” I sing to myself, but stop short because it is almost March and I’m Christmas caroled out.

I check Facebook, and pictures of my far away family at the beach taunt me. I burn my tongue with hot chocolate.

“I’m trapped in a $@#$% snow globe!” I hiss to my husband, when the poor man asks me how my day was.

I wish I were an ice skater, or a snowshoer, or Ski-doo rider, or skiier, or really just a person with enough coordination to walk through a parking lot without slipping on ice.

I guess winter is beginning to test my patience.

Is anyone else ready for spring?

My sentiments exactly.