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  • Writer's pictureTerri Tomoff

Winter Woes...or Wonderland?

A White Out and Big Snowy Day - Soup's on...

We will be short on sunshine today, but there are ways to manufacture it with a bowl of chili (I made it yesterday, and it's always better the second day with every ingredient melding together properly), writing in my HOT seat, and quilting (I have lots to do!).

Since I’m not a fan of snow of any color or stripe, it’s hard for me to say, “It’s pretty.”

However, my friend Kymberly Dakin's poem, which she cranked out a couple of days ago (she lives in an even Bigger White Out Snow Zone- Maine!) about winter, I am forcing myself to have a change of heart. I "should/could" appreciate the beauty that encompasses everywhere I look outside (Heck, I'm from Cleveland, Ohio, with Lake Erie Effect Snow, and shall I mention Blizzards, too?).

I DO NOT want to shovel, and I hold back as long as I can from that chore (by golly, I live with two guys…ahem…not that I can’t, but I don’t like or want to). My feeling is that it will melt eventually, though I do have a soft spot for our mailman, Bob. He needs a clear space to deliver the advertisements, junk mail, and real estate bunk to those who want to buy or sell our house.

Plus, I have to continually remind myself it IS winter, for gosh sake, and it IS January! What's my problem?

It's kind of funny that I wrote my post on the weather, but I’m cold and not too cranky because of that white stuff. I'd love nothing better than to sit and drink hot beverages all day long. After a cup or two of HOT tea, I switch to HOT water. I forgot to buy a lemon the other non snowy day to add to the water, so it will be plain HOT water. It’s the best if you haven’t tried it.

If you are a non-liker of snow, sleet, and ice, maybe Kym's poem will help you, too:

January 16, 2024, with permission to share by author Kymberly Dakin:

Silent Snow

Rain will announce itself

A gentle swish against the window or

Hard nails on the roof

Thunder shaking us alert

Like dice in a cup.

Sunshine will brighten a room

And sometimes dance with cloudshadow

Even without me looking out the window

And the burden of thought

Lifts, for a bit, with the light.

Snow does not announce itself in sound.

Snow dances to music only she can hear.

I turn to the window

Gray morning has vanished

Under fine white dust

Falling straight down

Into silence.

Stay safe if you are on the East Coast and everywhere there is snow, sleet, and ice!




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