Saturday, February 3, 2007

Brrrrr! It's Cold!

It is 9F outside. Feels like –8F. No matter what it feels like, it is darn cold. The kicker s that this is now February and it is just plain wrong. Of course some would say that it was wrong to be playing golf continually through the second week in January I don’t think so.

Back in my youth and hey day, the weather was much more predictable. Frequently we had snow by Thanksgiving here in SE Wisconsin. It was mandatory UP North – yeah dare hey. November is deer hunting season and snow makes for good tracking.

Snow was a mixed blessing that early. We grew up on a small lake in Waterford and our number one activity was ice-skating. There was nothing as sweet as fresh ice that had not been tarnished by snow. It was a slick and smooth as it could be. Oh how we loved it.

Once it snowed, well, first we had to shovel and that was work. After the ice was cleared we would beg Dad to hook up the hose and flood it to once again regain the smoothness of that first fresh ice.

We were pampered kids. Not only would our dad shovel and flood the ice, he had floodlights hooked up so that we could skate in the evening, and skate we did!

Ours was the biggest skating rink on our little lake. Hockey games were the norm. I didn’t play hockey but I dreamed of being an Olympic skater and practiced my twirls with great diligence.

There was no such thing as staying indoors any more than was absolutely necessary. The snow begged for sledding and the ice for skating. So what if you had to shovel first. It was better to shovel than have the smallest bump on the ice that could cause a nasty fall.

As adults, we would gather our parents house on Christmas Day and once again skate our hearts out. We had children of our own by then and introduced them to the joys of skating. They were always amazed at the speed with which my older brothers could smack a hockey puck.

I digress. It’s cold and it’s February. We should be thinking about spring. The seed catalogs have been arriving for weeks already causing us to dream about lush greens and vibrant flowers.

No longer can we expect snow at Thanksgiving, a white Christmas, and accuracy Punxsutawney Phil’s forecast of spring.

Fragrantly Yours


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