Winter's Wicked Cackle

(Just a plug, but don't forget to enter my contest to win the first art print of the Tahitian Girl drawing when it's finished. All you need to do is comment, or pass the word along-please comment and let me know, or become a follower. Now, back to the post . . . )


You gotta love February. It started out fuh-reeeeezing! Then we got a rare heat wave and temperatures rose to nearly 60 degrees fahrenheit. It's like spring! I got a killer case of spring fever. All the world became this rosy place as the snow melted. Yup, every bit, and I wasn't crying. Not at all.

Sigh.

Then I woke up Sunday morning. My blinds were closed. I stepped out on the front porch and this is what I saw - my poor, sad bushes.

When I finished my double take, I realized that it sure looked like a lot of snow. Eight inches worth. Overnight! Yeah.

Made me worried that the weight might break limbs on the trees in back. So I dejectedly slogged through the house and peeked.

Yeah, again.

Winter just kindly asserted that this is still his domain. When I got through being depressed, I had to admit it was kinda pretty. Just kinda. Well, sorta.

So I did the only rational thing a person should do and pulled on my boots. And pulled on my coat. And pulled on my gloves. And jogged in place until my blood passed the consistency of boiled-down molasses. Then I grabbed my camera and headed up the street.

I remember mentioning something about pathways before. They draw me in - this magnetic, spastic pull.

I made it two houses down before my senses kicked in and told me to go home, make a cup of hot cocoa, and find a good book. But then I saw their pine trees. Wow.

And then I heard a neighbor hooting. He'd built a snow ramp from his front porch to the street, and in short sleeves (silly boy), was having the time of his life. All right. All right. I admit it looks fun.

Some time later (at home again), my son came bouncing in the room, begging me to see what he'd done.

 Yup, an igloo built for one . . . almost.

His ears and nose would have made Rudolph jealous, but he didn't care. Said he didn't feel a thing. The mom in me insisted that he come inside until he turned a more natural color.

I think kids have all the fun because they have no nerves in their body.

So my son huddled on the heater with a blissful smile on his face, staring out at his masterpiece. His skin returned to a normal hue, thank heavens, but I wasn't sure if it was the heat or accomplishment that was making him happy.

Yup, it's pretty good to be a kid. He couldn't hear Winter laughing. But I could.