Cold...Frightful Indeed, I Love it!

So the weather has gone from chilly to mild autumn days a week ago to COLD. Cold that some of you understand perfectly, as you live in non-temperate zones as we do. How do I describe it for the rest of the world? You open the door, that is, if you still have the courage to do so, after feeling the icy wind on your toes, rushing through the bottom of the door frame before you've opened it, and if it is not frozen shut. You close it again when the wind about knocks you over and the cold has turned the front of you to an icicle. Time elapsed: 10 seconds. Our poor dog acts as though he immigrated from Miami, will have nothing to do with the out of doors and whines pitifully or heads straight into his kennel if you suggest a potty break. We have almost attained the temperature where "boogers freeze" as I remember from my paper-carrying days. Lungs hurt from breathing the frosty air and toes freeze after only ten minutes. But for me, it is exhilarating, I love being out in this winter weather. A brisk walk in the brisk air is a thing of beauty and joy forever.(My grandfather used to say the same thing about a clean house, but his excitement was not contagious.)

The children could care less about the real temperature. As long as there is snow to play in, they are out in it. Yesterday it was all of 10 degrees (that's Fahrenheit,  in Celcius it's -12), and they were out, playing and sledding and even running around with the dog who will follow his kids anywhere, in spite of the weather.

As for the snow, beautiful! It snowed Friday and the kids went out to play in the couple of inches that were there. Then it continued to snow all night and on Saturday morning I had my first chance to shovel snow of the season. I have to say that my husband has done a fantastic job for the nine years we've been here of making sure the snow has been removed from the driveway before I head out. I occasionally shovel a little, but now that there is no baby sleeping or making messes without my supervision, I am looking forward to a full season of shoveling my own self out when I need to.  But first I will need some training, clearly. 

It is Saturday morning, I am awake at 4am, even though I don't usually wake until 5 on the weekend. When I see the color of the sky out my window, I understand why. The light is so white, it just has to mean snow, lots of it! I jump out of bed, full of strong, good intentions. I creep downstairs noiselessly, throw on snowpants, a hat, a coat, mittens and boots and head out. The stillness of a snow-covered landscape, even in town, is a marvel. All is powdery white, shining in the glow of the white sky and one lone lamp at the end of my driveway. The only shovel I can locate is the child-size one, but no matter, I think, I can hardly lift the big one anyway. So I shovel and shovel, huff and puff and after a good half hour, have removed the snow from the half of the driveway I need in order to back down it and make it to my 6:00 writing time with my friend. All is well. I had thought to do the whole thing, but wow, that was some heavy snow, all six inches of it.

The next part is the sad one. Sunday came and left with nary a twinge of muscle discomfort. Monday though...ah, Monday came and showed me just what an out-of-shape, sad wreck of a woman I am. First came the abs, hmm, sore abs, that's weird, I hadn't done any sit-ups lately. As the day continued, so did the new sensations; biceps, triceps, legs, ribs, back...a full body take-out. By the time dinner time rolled around, there was nothing left to add to the list. I took a walk in the snow-light to stretch out all of my parts and vowed to shape up, cause I don't want to miss the shoveling next time around!