|10/18/2018 1:24:00 PM|
I'm not in the mood for snow
I couldn't believe it Sunday morning when I looked out the back window--snow. It was already easily an inch deep on the flat roof outside the window. "Awe, come on," I thought kind of in a complaining prayer, "I'm not in the mood for snow yet!"
Obviously someone along the prayer chain was ready, someone on the receiving end of the chain, and my complaint was ignored. It was, afterall, a pretty selfish prayer. Maybe if I had taken a more generous approach, something like, "Awe, come on, Lord, how about waiting until the bean harvest is complete?'
It's just that I haven't had a chance to experience the joy of photographing the beauty of fall colors. When I've had the time to get out and take pictures, the weather conditions have been dreary, and colors just don't photograph well under cloudy skies.
Of course, truth be told I'm never ready for winter. Not that I don't like winter, for the most part I do, but it takes some getting used to the change when it comes, and I don't like a slow, gradual transition from fall to winter.
If I were in charge of the process, I would gradually turn the outdoor thermostat down during October until daytime temps were about 50 and midnight temps were a few degrees below freezing. Then Halloween night, after trick or treaters finished their rounds, I'd dump about six inches of snow and drop the temp down to -30º for a day or two, until I got used to subzero temps. After that I'd just let it do whatever it wanted.
Thing is, I don't like having winter come on like a wimp, just getting a degree or two colder daily, every day a little more unpleasant than the last one. Give me a couple days of miserably cold weather and, after that, I'm ready for whatever comes next.
I spent a large part of my early life on a dairy farm northeast of Rochester. We heated the house with a Round Oak Stove that sat between the dining room and living room. If I had a glass of water by my bed at night, by morning the water was frozen and the glass often was broken. When I hopped out of bed, I would head right to the stove wrapped in a blanket and would soak up heat until I was warm to the core. On cold winter nights now, when I wake up I'd like to have that stove to heat up my core again. Sure, we have central heat and nothing freezes at night, but sometimes I miss having that heat that drives the warmth right into the center of my body. Central heat doesn't do that.
Sure, now that I'm thinking about childhood life, I wish we had some cocoa here at the office. I'm suddenly in the mood for a cup of hot chocolate, made with fresh milk, and a couple of Mom's white roll-out cookies, the kind with raisins in them.
Those were the days when Mom and Dad worked in Rochester. I was the oldest of four then. (Two more came later.) We would all sit around the stove at night, when the folks were at work, and listen to scary radio shows like "The Inner Sanctum," and then we'd turn on every light in the house. Ah, yes, those were the days!
Winters are getting milder, seems a shame. Winter was my favorite season when I was a kid. I guess we've both changed.
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