Alright, I have concluded that I have an irrational fear of the snow. Don't worry, this doesn't really effect my life. It's much like the way I have an irrational fear of changing the clocks (boo for it getting dark at 4:45) and Wendy's hamburgers (a burger is just not supposed to be square!) But here's the thing about snow, it is eerily silent. It doesn't bother me when I'm out watching my son play in it. It doesn't bother me when I look outside during the afternoon and see it falling. It scares the crud outta me when it's dark and I open the door to let my dog in and he's covered in it. And I know it's going to take some getting used to. I lived 26 years in a land where snow just does not come down so it's not like I'm expecting to see it when I turn the doorknob. Tonight, though, I actually felt that initial panic of, "Oh sweet chicken, what has my dog gotten in to?" This feeling was quickly replaced by, "Oh my gosh, it's snowing and I had no clue that was happening and why didn't I get the memo and maybe Mother Nature should ask me first and how is it so disturbingly stealth?" I just, I feel all unsettled inside. You know on those suspense films where you see the SWAT team surrounding a house and the guys are running up to the windows with their guns but they aren't making any noise and then all the sudden BAM they kick in the door and all pandemonium breaks loose? (Dad, is that really how it's done?) Well. Snow is just like that. Except it doesn't carry a gun. And it rarely, actually, kicks down your door. It clandestinely covers your dog so that you momentarily think some white mutt has hidden your precious retriever. And, quite frankly, I don't know which is worse. It's been hours since my dog entered the house covered in secretive flakes. I'm afraid to look outside. My entire yard has probably been baptised with that which shall henceforth remain unnamed. You want me to look, don't you. Well, alright, I will. I'll face my fear.
OH MY GOSH! It's everywhere! Seriously. I feel so twisty and unsettled inside. Southern California, how I miss you and your lack of surreptitious weather.
Ah yes. The snow. Not to rub it in, but I don't miss the snow one bit. Or the SuperWalMarts for that matter. Portland's zoning laws are not amenable to the big-box-on-steroids monstrosities that were the mainstay of my Utah experiences. I hope at least they have big aisles, while the snow is falling silently outside? :-)
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