Here in southeastern Pennsylvania we are awaiting our first snowstorm of the season. The first one is always magical. It brings a beauty about it and covers all the ugly brownness of a fall completed.
As always, I am conflicted. I enjoy the first snow (not be confused with the twentieth snow in February where I am close to suicidal) but it isn’t always convenient.
My fantasy involves a beautiful snow while I am in front of a fireplace with the tree lights glowing, music softly playing and a cup of hot chocolate (with whipped cream) in my hand. It may even include a good book on my lap.
The beloved husband’s fantasy is a great football game where the home team is someplace warm so they can play their hearts out (and win) accompanied by a Coors Light and some salted peanuts. (Do we have a disconnect here?)
The reality is that it usually occurs when we have to travel. I used to dread the drive to work but today we are attending a Christmas concert (the Transiberian Orchestra no less!) a half hour away on a good day.
Our fireplace is broke. Some gizmo broke and it won’t be fixed until the 18th so that dream is out too.
Fortunately, the hot chocolate stock is good and thanks to Kindle, I can always get a good book fast. Wine always works in a pinch.
The beauty will not be lasting. The snow will be followed closely by ice (double yuk!) and ending in rain tomorrow morning. This isn’t the fantasy that I dream about.
We have prepared as best we can. The beloved husband has exchanged the lawn mower for the snow blower.
I have filled the bird feeders and the heated bird bath. These are located near a sliding glass door which we refer to as our cats’ interactive theatre. There are nose prints on the glass to prove its popularity.
We will dress for the weather and hope for the best.
Maybe next time we will have the fantasy but let’s hope it’s not in February.