After the first half of January, which felt more like the first half of April, winter has arrived in the Washington, DC area with a vengeance.
I have to qualify that, of course. I grew up in Western Pennsylvania, and I remember the fierce winters we used to have, the ones that carried snow measured in feet down from the Great Lakes and buried us in soft white. We thought nothing of hiking through knee-deep snow to the bus stop to catch the school bus, and my first driving lessons were in the enormous parking lot of our church, surrounded by giant heaps of snow pushed aside by fleets of plows (my Dad wasn't stupid). But here in the DC metro area, an inch of snow causes complete panic...and the bare two inches we had yesterday has resulted in closed schools and traffic chaos. Of course, the sleet and freezing rain we had on top of the snow didn't help, but nevertheless, it doesn't take much to tie this area in knots.
I'm glad for the snow. Agnes and I are four-seasons people, and in winter, you're supposed to have snow. But like everything else, you take the good with the bad. I've already spent an hour outside this morning, cleaning snow and ice off the cars and shovelling out the driveway and sidewalks. It felt good. Of course, it'll feel different later, when my aging muscles finally realize what I put them through this morning, but I'll manage.
In the meantime, I think I'm ready for one of my favorite winter things: listening to my recording of Dylan Thomas reading "A Child's Christmas in Wales." If you've never heard it, you're missing one of the great treats of the season and the language, and you can download it from iTunes.
So make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, sit in front of the fire, open up the morning paper, and listen to Dylan Thomas in the background.
Life's good.
Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.
Bilbo
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