“Happy Birthday!” -- Frosty the Snowman
I have insisted fervently the last week that it is unfair that we should have such cold weather and no snow. I don’t want the kind of snow—measured in feet—that has fallen in the Plains states, but just a little snow to perk us up a bit. By this time last year, we’d had a round or two of snow flurries, but this year, I’ve seen nary a flake.
Funny thing about snow, when you get a good inch or so covering the ground, it makes everything look fresh and clean. The yard becomes a smooth blanket of white instead of having the odd leaf or squirrel hole around. The garden looks like a sculpture instead of a wild mess of tomato vines that really didn’t stop growing until it got so cold. And Ben and I, like the overgrown children we are, like to go outside and play in it, just a little.
The problem with playing in the snow, or letting the dog out to do what dogs do, is that it’s no longer quite so pretty. The footprints look dingy and turn icy, and the many tracks left by the dog’s romping and the other assorted wildlife that populate our little backyard in town ruin the effect of a white blanket covering everything over. All too soon, the snow melts away, and there we are, back to normal.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions anymore, because like the snow, everything seems to be clean and new for a while, but then it all goes back to the way it was. Instead, I “resolve” to accept what I must, and change what I can, and not to condemn myself if I need to start over (and over and over)…
How is the new year treating you?