Skip to main content

Let it snow

"Winter Weather Advisory".
"Winter Storm Warning".


It's winter. It's Michigan. Snow is going to fly. Wind is going to blow. Temps are going to dive.

Yet, the weather-forecasters want to keep us hyper-vigilant to the fact that the snow is flying, the wind is blowing and the temps are diving. 

We along the shores of the Great Lakes are especially aware of winter's weather, "lake effect snow" just means winter weather on steroids. We have the Ziggy cloud (for those of you unfamiliar with this reference, the cartoon character Ziggy was often depicted with him being followed by a dark cloud - I tried a Google search but came up empty, so my explanation I hope draws picture enough!) from December to March. My mom will sometimes call from sunny Phoenix referring to the cloud over Saugatuck. One winter we had 20 snow days in a row following Christmas break (that might be a slight exaggeration, but it felt like 20!).

It's winter. It's Michigan. Snow is going to fly. Wind is going to blow. Temps are going to dive.

Driving is challenging. I think some of the best drivers in the world are from Michigan because we have learned to drive on icy roads, or through white-outs, or along snow-covered or drifted-over roads. We could be cruising along at posted speeds and suddenly encounter any or all of the above and immediately a switch is turned and we are in survival mode slowing our speed (not slamming on the brakes), possibly turning on our emergency flashers (so others behind us can see us better) and checking the lanes. Admittedly, I'd rather not have or have to use this skill set, but it's in my tool box!

And it's only 88 days until spring! And the happiest people in the world are Michiganders of the first sunny days of spring - once the temp rises above 50 we take off our snow pants and put on shorts!




Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:   For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches. On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage. I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected. So instead of watching th...