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Where's the Snow?

It's less than two weeks until Christmas Day here near Albany, NY, and although I'm certainly not complaining, there's not a flake of snow on the ground. The grass in my front lawn and backyard is still green, and the ground hasn't frozen yet. Last year at this time we had already been pounded with one major snowstorm after another and we were already measuring our snowstorms in feet rather than inches.

A part of me loves this unusually mild weather. Arriving at work in the morning without my heart beating out of my chest because of the stress from driving in a Nor'easter snowstorm, is a relief. Not worrying about getting stuck in my own driveway at the end of the workday because the city snow plows dumped a foot of snow at the entrance is a relief. Falling asleep at night without trying to decide if I should make the attempt to get to work the next morning, if it's worth risking life and limb, is a relief. It's even appealing to hop in the car and go Christmas shopping without listening to the day's weather report first, do I need boots, gloves and scarves? What time will the snow start? Better be home by then.

BUT, on the flip side, there is something special about Christmas shopping with snow on the ground, something magical about watching fresh white snow flakes sparkle as they drift down under the streetlights, and anyone who has ever seen a fresh layer of soft white snow shimmering on the ground would be hard pressed to choose snow-less Decembers instead.

Perhaps the issue here is choice. If I could choose to be a kid again, home from school, my snowsuit warming on the hot radiator, mom searching the house for my one lost mitten, then pulling on my navy blue rubber boots over warm wool socks, stuffing the pants leg of my snow suit into the top of my boot, struggling to force the ankle strap to close, then a snow-less December would be unthinkable, unacceptable, inconceivable!

So, I sit here conflicted. The adult me would be happy to get through the entire winter without a drop of snow, but the kid in me, oh, the kid in me, wants to find my round metal snow saucer, drag it across the street and fly down the mounds of snow in reckless abandon laughing alongside my childhood friends while our cheeks grow red and our socks collect tiny ice balls of snow.

 
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