Snow always brings back memories, spurs excitement

It starts off days before the actual event. The weatherman lets us know that we are headed for the first big snowstorm of the year. Day by day the excitement builds in anticipation of the big event.  The closer the day gets the more it takes over your life.

It makes no difference whether you are from the north or south, east or west. Snow has an impact on your life that is often hard to explain. If you are from the snowbelt and now live in the south, snow is a reminder of your youth. If you are from the south, snow is a rarity that must be enjoyed quickly before it melts. 

Everyone seems to enjoy watching the antics of a puppy or kitten as they experience their first snow. The pictures of babies in their overstuffed snowsuits enjoying mother nature’s white blanket brings a smile to every parent’s face. 

The problem arises when they prepare you for snow and you prepare for snow then snow doesn’t show up. After hearing that snow was on its way all week we were excited. We could finally get a reminder that maybe we would have a winter, even if only for a couple of days. 

Preparation is the key to survival. My wife called from work last Friday and told me she would be home late because she was going into Roanoke Rapids for groceries and rock salt.  Needless to say she was one of over two million people that had the same idea. It is at times like these that you find out how many people live in the area. They are all at the stores making sure they have enough food for three days, but buying enough for at least five days.  

After returning from the store with enough food for a three-day retreat to enjoy the snow and the football playoffs, there was more to do. She prepared the generator for use. She brought in some wood for what would be the first use of the fireplace this year.As she fell into her chair she stated, “Let the snow begin.” 

My wife will not go to Detroit in the winter because she can’t stand the cold and snow, yet she gets all excited when they forecast it will snow down here. A perfect snow event to her would be much like it would be for me, a thick blanket of snow on all non-road surfaces. The next best thing in her book would be to have a thick blanket of snow for a day then back to mild weather, much like it often does around here.

I love the snow. I love the fact that I am skilled enough to drive in it and on it. I love the look of snow on the trees. A virgin field of snow is one of the most beautiful winter scenes.  It is probably why whenever they talk about snow coming I start thinking back over the years. 

There were some days I didn’t like the snow. These generally centered around my years as a paperboy. At one time I had two paper routes, one at night and one in the morning. In the winter it was always dark when I was delivering papers, morning or night. For the most part I overlooked the snow and cold weather because I knew that when it came time to collect for the paper I would get more money for tips.

There were also a few days when I would say, “Boy will I be glad when I get a regular job and not have to freeze my backside off.” 

It is fun to remember the snowstorms that really stayed with me. One that always comes to mind was back in the late 1950s. The weather people called for a couple of inches of snow so like any kid my age I got up and walked a little over a mile to church for ash Wednesday. It is important to stress the distance in miles so my younger readers will know that I was a tough kid. The more I walked the windier it got. The more I walked the heavier the snow filled the air and covered the ground.

I finally made it to church and got my ashes. I then had to walk another mile to get to my school. As I took each step I felt like was climbing a mountain into a head wind. But I slogged on because I knew my mom would be proud of me for going to church and then on to school on such a bad weather day. Or maybe I just wanted to make up for all the times I didn’t make any effort to get to church or school on a clear weather day. 

Anyway I trudged forward and after what seemed like two days in the wilderness, I made it to school. When I finally had the school in sight I noticed one disturbing thing, the school buses were leaving. God and I had a quick conversation about why he did this to me. (Actually, God did all the listening. I realize now that this was one of those times when I had God’s answer to me without me having to ask any questions.)

I was close enough to school that I kept going only to find out that school was closed early because of the snow. Me being the bright person that I was I said, “This is not snow, this is a blizzard.”

No matter what it was called I had to trek back two miles to my house. So there I was heading home. I thought it couldn’t be too bad at least I would have the wind to my back. After taking a few steps I learned the real definition of a blizzard is a snowstorm with swirling winds.

(Do you know how hard it is to not adlib and say that I, my dog Lassie and horse Trigger braved the elements for over twelve hours and made it home?)

Back to my story, it took me forever to get home. By the time I arrived home I was ready to have some “hot chicken soup” and call it a day. It took me a day to warm up and I have never forgotten the story, which makes me ask myself, “Self tell me again why you like the snow.”

Now, back to last weekend. After all of my wife’s hard work and great preparation to end up with a total of ten snow flakes was a great disappointment.

It also proved once again that I am crazy. Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I continually believe the weather men and woman. I even catch it all on the local channels as well as the weather channel never once thinking they all could be wrong again.  

Not to worry the next time they predict a snow storm I’ll send my wife to the store again and stock up on some goodies and make ready for what I do best - snow or no snow– watch TV and eat (not necessarily in that order.)

Maurice Emery is the Editor of The Littleton Observer. www.littletonobserver.com