This is mid-January. Where’s my snow?
Last year my car was skidding half-way sideway right at the intersection to get in my street. It was kind of uphill, early AM and I had few choices that I did not want to take AT ALL: either hit my neighbor’s blue Jaguar, or slide back to the bigger street waiting for some knucklehead hits my car. Thank God I ended up in the middle of the empty street where I could back off, slowly, reaaallllyy slowly, then went to the next block and got in from there.
Last year I was already in my fox-fur trimmed long wool coat (I am not a fan of fake fur, or to be fashion-conscious, faux-fur. Feel better?) and this year I still see some kids in the mall wearing jacket and short pants. SHORT pants. My pretty coat is still stuck upstairs in guest room’s closet (so it doesnt have to be jammed in my overloaded walk-in bedroom closet). Due to the fact that South is not that cold, the opportunity of wearing that coat is probably only happening in January, the coldest month of the year. And we’re already in the middle of that! I’m starting to get worried now!
I want some fluffy, dry, white-as-a-bunny snow. Snow that stacks up (at least) for few days and makes my little house look like a ginger house that any school kid makes and generous with the icing. Yep, that kind of snow. Enough amount to make my handsome husband burns some energy to snovel them off our driveway. Enough for my son to make snow angel in the front yard, enough for me to throw him a snowball or two. And oh the sound of the fresh snow stepped under your shoes! The ‘krrrttt-krrrrttt-kkkrrrttt’ sounds.
I want some ice that covers the bare branches of the trees and makes them sparkling, glistening under the winter sun. And the quietness after the icestorm passes. It is so surreal. I want some icycles hung by the roof, like sharp blades dripping clear blood ready to stab your head. And me being so clumsy, will do some ballerina-look-alike moves just to keep my butts off the ground, navigating myself from my truck to the front door and hope I will end up at the front door and not ER.
I want my snow. So ready for snow. And ice. And snow. And fireplace on (its’ been on for few days but no snow) with the crackling sounds of burning woods, and hot sweet tea and suggling with my husband and son on the couch, and my fat cat sleeps by the window.
I want my January.