North Texas does it to us again!

I’ve only lived here for fifty-four years, so maybe I’m not an expert. But it seems to me that in North Texas we’re always gearing up for that killer winter storm that never happens (hope I don’t have to eat those words). Warnings about tonight were dire, but so far, at eight thirty, we have dry sidewalks. A friend in the Monticello neighborhood reports sleet, so maybe not all is lost.

My Monticello friend was to come for supper tonight. When she announced she’d come earlier than usual so she could be home before the worst of the weather, I discouraged her from coming at all. She grew up in Texas and lived in Florida for years, which to my mind equals no winter driving skills. I was afraid we’d gobble our food while looking out the window between bites to check the weather, and we’d both be anxious and nervous. I think she was content with that idea and says it give her a chance to experiment with her InstaPot.

My friend from Canada and her partner came for wine tonight. I figured growing up in Ontario weather wouldn’t phase her, and it doesn’t. She says her parents in Ottawa (my good friends) cannot get their garage door closed. The wind chill there is forty below. Yikes, I love a good winter storm—well, any kind of storm except tornadoes—but forty below is a bit much.

Still, I may be a tad disappointed if I wake up to dry sidewalks tomorrow, and I know several people, including my grandson, who will be outright bummed. I’m not sure why it matters to me, since I have no plans to do anything but stay in my cottage and work. I guess I like the idea of storms.

The liking has been a bone of contention between me and Jacob for years. When he was little, storms terrified him. I still remember one night when there was a tornado warning. He put a chair, a bottle of wine, snacks, the dog and cat, and all the comforts of home in my walk-in closet, where he also settled himself with a blanket. It was before he had a cell phone, so I don’t know what he had to amuse himself, but we could have stayed in there for twenty-four hours, barring potty breaks. As I remember, nothing happened.

What I’d like, please Lord, is one snow day, with the world white and ordinary life at a standstill. But in the early afternoon all would melt, and by the next morning, we’d be back to normal. I don’t think I’m asking too much

Stay warm and safe.