Love-hate relationship with snow

I have something of a love-hate relationship with snow.

On one hand, I really don’t like driving in it, something that I’ve noticed has gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. In my younger days it was no problem to hop in the car and head back to college in the midst of a blizzard, following the truck in front of me, navigating the road by following his taillights.

Now, though, I put off leaving for any winter road trip until I’ve checked the roads, the weather forecast and had at least three cups of coffee just to make sure I’m alert. Instead of a “wimpy kid”, I’m a “wimpy adult.”

Another thing I’ve noticed with age and snow is the need to actually wear a coat and I’ve even broken down and bought one of those fuzzy headbands to keep my ears warm. I’m still on the fence when it comes to gloves because, quite honestly, they drive me crazy, but I do own a couple of pairs just in case.

On the flip side, I do enjoy what a snow day means as an adult.

I find myself baking up a storm when it snows. I’m not really sure if that is a primal, survival thing stashed somewhere in my DNA or if its just because I love the smell of fresh-baked anything filling my house.

And then there’s the fuzzy bathrobe and coffee time while watching the snow fall outside, even though I know I’m going to eventually have to go out and shovel.

My favorite, perhaps, is a nighttime snowstorm. Everything is so quiet and watching the snow dance in the light of the streetlights is comforting. Add my kitties on my lap and I’m content with whatever is on the ground in the morning.

So go ahead Mother Nature, give us a taste of what’s to come. We’ll just sip our coffee and enjoy the show from the comfort of our couch. We’ll wait til February before we start getting irritated with the cold.