Feed the Cold

I love cold weather. I grew up in it. The cold winds whipping off the Mississippi River were Mother's milk to me. Perhaps it has to do with my being born in December. I don't know. Maybe my Winter break trips to Buffalo or Quebec are the cause. In any event, I love a good parka and snow -- lots of it.

Growing up, snow would almost shut down the city, but it couldn't. People had too much to do. It would take more than 4 or 5 inches of the fluffy white stuff to stop us. It would take more than below freezing temperatures to keep us out of it. My friends and I would build snow caves, snowmen and anything else we could. We learned that if you take snowballs and put them in the freezer that they would turn to ice. The snow made East St. Louis seem cleaner, more innocent.

I learned to drive in the snow and sleet. My first driver's license was earned two weeks before Christmas. We learned early that if you could drive in an Illinois winter, you could drive in practically anything. We would make trips to St. Louis, across the rickety Chouteau bridge and master the hills and curves around the Arch in LaClede's Landing. We would drive out to St. Charles, just for the experience.

It wasn't until I moved to the South that I realized how much I missed the cold weather, the snow and ice, the raining sleet covering and creating patches of black ice. A real winter. Temperatures rarely above freezing and if so then not for very long. I miss the memories of Winter. The birthday party, traveling during the school break, the smell of cinnamon and sweet potato pie. We baked more back then. It doubled to add extra warmth to the house while being practical. I miss quilting in the winter. It's far too hot where I live now.

Here in Oklahoma, we have an "almost-Winter". Some time around the middle of January, we have a two day ice storm. By day three, all evidence has vanished save for a few shaded areas. Then in February we have a week or so of cooler weather. And then it's gone. Back home, winter announced its presence in October and visited our fair land until mid March. I remember the day we brought our son home from the hospital in April. We had snow.

I fear that I am acclimating to the Southern temperatures. The only time now that I really miss the winter is when I'm in the midst of a hot flash, my own personal summer. I miss the true winter. But what I long for even more are the feelings that it brought.