Anticipation

Well, here we are. It's 6:30 Sunday morning and already we have three or four inches of overnight snow on the ground.

And more is coming.

I guess the weather forecasters were right. While the predictions for the snowfall amount were all over the place – anywhere from one to four inches for those located south of I-40 to eight to 12 inches for the Piedmont – I wasn't sure what to expect.

The wind is whipping snow all over the place...

 It was all about the anticipation, a word (and impatient expectation) which makes me think about Carly Simon's great song about ketchup. The early forecasts rolled in about a week ago. Since then, it's been all about the waiting... waiting... waiting.

And now it's here.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean, I spent my childhood winters in snow, frolicking in the stuff in years spent in Pennsylvania, New Hampshire and Connecticut, all before I was old enough to drive a car.

Back then, I thought it was great.

A part of me really enjoys it and I actually do appreciate the gentle fall of flakes as it shrouds everything in pure white. It salves the soul.

But I'm not a kid anymore. I dislike driving in the stuff. I don't want to walk in it. I've long ago given up building snowmen or sliding down soft slopes on a sled. I don't want to be left stir crazy in my house because everything is closed and there's nowhere to go.

And this morning, to make things a little different, the wind is blowing. Flakes sometimes are falling in a diagonal direction. Hmm. And Fido needs to go out. Enjoy.

I suppose this will likely be our version of a White Christmas, unless we actually do get snow on Christmas Eve. Yeah, we still have more than two weeks to go for that to happen, but we are in Christmas mode, and the decorations on the houses somehow make the season seem more, umm, more... seasonal.

I guess I should just sit back and enjoy it.

But, man, I just got done raking leaves. And now I have to shovel snow? Sheesh.