Nothing quite like waking up to -30 near the end of March. One might think that I would be used to it by now, having lived here more than a few years… and really I am, but that is beside the point. The quote above was provided me by a friend in response to my posting this photo on the facebook yesterday…
Some days I am inclined to agree. Stuff it Fairbanks, your little jokes are not funny.
They say it is supposed to be in the high 30s…above zero… this coming weekend. These sorts of shenanigans are enough to make one feel even more bipolar and/or schizophrenic than we already do living in this place. But then, perhaps that is why some of us choose to live here…it is easier to hide one’s little flaws when there is crazy all around.
Anyways, it is trying to be spring and given the mercurial highjinks of the past couple of weeks it seems a good time to pay homage to winter… which I really do love…to a point. I would be a fool to keep on living here if I did not have some type of love for our most pronounced season. Passive-aggressive love that it may be. This troubled love affair was very well described through an extended series of facebook posts written by the same friend responsible for the title quote of this post. Ranging from passionate, steamy love notes to vile, venomous, accusatory rebukes, to – as I recall – a final, nail in the coffin, “Dear John” letter; these posts personified the difficulties one has relating to such an unforgivingly complicated entity as “Old Man Winter”. They were perfect, each and every one of them. They generally mirrored my very thoughts and made me laugh out loud each and every time. This came to pass last winter I believe.
Point is, having chosen to live here (and choosing to continue doing so), we do not have much room to complain about the weather. We all know what it is. We all know what it will do. We will all exalt in the glorious days (however we might determine individually how those look or act). We all throw up our collective hands in exasperation when the unpredictability of the weather rears its ugly head. We all get testy and jumpy after weeks of -30 and colder. Yet, we choose to stay on. We embrace the crazy and break out the t-shirts and shorts and beach blankets and mojitos the first time it hits 40 degrees above and the sun is shining and the snow is melting off the roof.
“I see you shiver with antici……….pation”
It was -20 when I left the house this morning and we have pumpkins growing in our bedroom. There is not a cloud in the sky and if you dress in all black, find a place out if the wind and in direct sun, you can feel warmth from on high. Having cleared the bulk of the winter snow off of the deck on that one day weeks ago when March was playing games, I frantically clear any new fallen snow away in the hopes that it will be the last. Collectively we border on giving ourselves whiplash trying to decide between skis, running shoes, bikes, or deck chairs when trying to determine the best outdoor activity. The light hat, gloves, and coat are at the ready but we know that we will just freeze our collective arses if we wear them…yet.
We are waiting. We are anxious. Break-up is near and the crazy is swirling around us, like a thousand voiced choir building up to a cacophonous crescendo. And then we walk around the corner of a building to get a full face of winter wind; our eyes squint, our fists ball up, we bare our teeth and curse our sociopathic climatic lover. Damn you winter…we won’t get fooled again.
*** addendum: For another fun take on being cold and distant, check out a fellow bloggers posts here. http://inksnow.blogspot.com