Wednesday, February 12, 2014


The Pilot and I spent the first eighteen months of our marriage living in Wichita Falls, Texas, and then in Phoenix, Arizona. That eighteen months commenced in January of 2012, and aside from one day in Wichita Falls when I remember a slushy rain falling, we didn't get much in the way of winter. 

Seven months ago, we moved to South Carolina. I didn't expect much winter– after all, it is The South, the place where people go to get away from winter– but I confess I did hope for a little bit. The changeless season of summer in Phoenix got on my nerves, especially when we had to turn the air conditioning on on the day we bought our Christmas tree. I mourned the donning of shorts in March and flip-flops even earlier. I didn't mind the sun– I grew up in Colorado Springs, which is notoriously sunny– but I longed for cold. Just a little bit of winter, please?

As our first Sumter autumn drew to a close, the Pilot warned me not to expect too much. Winter in The South meant lots of dreary, rainy days, he said. It would be colder than Phoenix had been, of course, but don't get your hopes up about snow. It doesn't snow in South Carolina, he said.

I don't believe him any longer. Because this is what it looks like outside our front window today:

And this is what our house looked like exactly two weeks ago:

Needless to say, I am delighted. Not only does that make two snows for our first Sumter winter, last week the Pilot and I went to Colorado to visit my family, and Colorado Springs obligingly met us with three days of snow (not to mention a couple days following with temperatures well below zero!)

So I got to bask in this:

I am not an Eskimo, nor do I have any desire to live in Siberia or even Michigan, but honestly, I love a nice snowy day in the winter. Particularly when, like today, the roads are so bad that the base is closed and the Pilot gets to stay home from work, and going anywhere is out of the question. Everything is cozy, and we're reading The Silver Chair to each other, and we'll have the Olympics on in the evening. I have crockpot applesauce cooking and I'm going to make soup for supper, and I feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder. Granted, our house is not a log cabin and I'm very thankful for electricity and running water and insulation– but it's fun to have a snow day.