Where's The Snow?

I went to bed early last night. I mean I fell asleep reading my book on the couch, woke up when Miss Bit was going to bed, went to tuck her in, and decided to just join her in la la land. Really, it seemed preferable to where I was, which was out of sorts, anxious, down. If I'd have known I was practically going to relive Crime and Punishment in my dreams, I might have opted for a few more chapters of Alexandra Fuller's African childhood, which takes place in the midst of bloody civil-war raging Rhodesia. The family fights the Africans and the animals who were both there before them, and themselves too. It's the kind of story of survival that makes one realize how cushy life is in parts of the world.

I digress. So I was of the belief when I turned my light out, I'd see the world in a better light come morning light. It's true. My outlook is sunnier today even IF the skies are too. Snow was in our forecast overnight. Not a deluge, but a couple inches, and we're in the position to take what we can get. From what I can tell, we only got a paltry dusting and now the brilliant sun threatens to melt that too. I must confess that T. Bone and Miss Bit are not alone in their lamentation of this fact. We all feel robbed, cheated. At this point, I would be ever so happy with one shut down the schools storm that immobilizes us for an entire day so we can celebrate that freeing feeling of life at a complete standstill. At this rate though I'm not holding my breath.

Nor are my kids. T. Bone has been surfing sites for the necessary equipment to turn our backyard into a snowboard park. He shows me tubes and blocks...ramps and grinds...video after video...and then he says a little defeated, "Next year. There's next year." He had to write a persuasive paper on what bugs him most. He chose no snow in winter. He is so my kid, and thus didn't need to persuade me, but I think his arguments were swaying...convincing. Every day Miss Bit and I pass by the ice rink on the way to school, and she asks, "Do you think we'll ever be able to skate?" I have to tell her it's not likely because it's an icy, uneven puddle once again. I doubt the city will flood it a third time. I remind her there's always the indoor rink, but I firmly agree it's just not the same.

So it is that instead of dreaming of a warm, tropical escape, I can't get the snowy mountains off my winter wanting mind.