Winter! How do I hate thee? Let Me Count the ways:
Midnight sojourns out into the crackling snow that falls in great sheets, except under the eaves where I stand, hoping to keep out of a blizzard. No stars to wish on. No Moon to talk to. I talk to the sweet night chirping chickadees, that seem to weakly call, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” to the snow beginning to lay a cover over the branches of the thick juniper trees, caging them in. My favorite nighttime break from inside has suddenly become muffled and withdrawn… lifeless. The trees stretch out their boney fingers as if pointing to the guilty one that threatens life and… yes… limb. Color is gone from the world.
I am forced…we are forced... to hibernate. It is too slippery out there and The Bee Man can fall on a bright shining day. Anyways, it is too cold to go out except to haul the garbage can out to the street for pickup. It bogs down in the snow and I am forced to wear good snow boots I resurrect from the back of the closet in order to get traction.
The vehicle looks like a foam-covered artifact. I have to find the brush and brush snow off the windows and top of car which immediately loads the sleeves of my coat with snow. Any foray out and about holds dangers of all kind for elderly people. I am starting to understand why older men act like they own the road and crawl through crosswalks loaded with people, like they own the road. Everyone is in danger as they have hard focus on the immediate road in front of them, step on the gas, and forget they have a brake. It’s a regular ‘crash em up’ derby out there on the roads, in the parking areas, in the driveways. And, I hate having to go out and start the vehicle, in the first place, to warm it up. That means layer on clothes, start it, turn on the heat full blast, remember to have the second set of keys because the doors lock, keys and all. And, all the way, you are skidding on the ice beneath the fresh layers of snow. Danger. Heavy danger.
Having to go out anywhere is a chore as I want just to stay inside where it is warm. And I make sure I have winter things to do in the house so I do not have to go out. Out is wretched, is slippery with frozen slush, is cold. But it can get cold inside too; the floors, toilet seats are cold, I nearly don’t make it to the washroom because I have so many layers to doff in order to sit me down. And it is dark.
Miserable months of late sunrise that you do not see often because it is gray and snowy the few hours of what is supposed to be daylight. Miserable short days. Miserable early nightfall and you want to go to bed at 6 and, if you do, you are up all hours of the night. You want to do things outside, but it is too cold, and too dark, and too depressing, and…. I ‘hates’ winter.
Winter reminds me of being a kid and tromping
ten minutes up to the top of our hill to spend a swift two seconds sliding down
on a toboggan. Climb. Repeat.
Tromp. Repeat. After the first
slide down, you had snow stuffed up your pant legs, your feet were turning
numb, and you had to pee. There were no
port-a-potties in those days. You held
it as long as you could, as kids are wont to do…held it longer than was
physically able to be held… headed for home, made it a half mile towards home, and
made the wise decision to just pee in your snowsuit. Now you were chaffed, pee does freeze, and
you were ten times colder than you were to begin with. With running nose, and wet pants, and boots
filled with... well, you get the picture… you were so miserable that you swore
to never go again...ever… but you did the next day. NB: Do
not wear ‘gum boots’, even with wool socks, in the winter. They do not hold the
heat, but they do hold anything else. Anoither NB: I still have the same problem... no rubber boots and snowsuit though.
I don’t have SAD, but I am pretty sure I get Winter PTSD. I am ‘right-to-the-bone’ cold for the winter months. Winter, though, gives me a few months excuse too not complain about the heat of summer.
©Carol Desjarlais 1.10.24
No comments:
Post a Comment