Once upon a time, I lived in Kentucky. A couple of inches of snow paralyzed all reality and created tremendous chaos in the world of drivers, superintendents, and employers.
Now upon a time, I live in Connecticut. When I woke up yesterday morning listening to the Weather Channel, I couldn't help but to look out my window and catch the orange-pink sherbet hue that overlapped the Long Island Sound. I took it as a sign that the Great Whatever would drop a few flakes our way.
Lucky for me I balance between Syracuse and Kentucky as I reside in Connecticut.
On one hand, there's a lot of snow that has fallen since 10 a.m. yesterday. On the other hand, it is a light fluffy snow that is easy to push with a shovel. It will be interesting to see what the school Gods have to say as to whether or not we educators have to earn our keep today.
I can say that when I returned last night, I didn't make it up my driveway. I got stuck by the pavement until I shoveled the driveway and could climb the hill to my front door. Before I went to bed, I did another round of shoveling and, at least when I hit my pillow, the driveway was clear, but the fluff-n-nutter was still dropping rather quickly.
And the relatives in Key West and the West Coast send snicker text messages about where I live and what we in the northeast call normal in January. They look at palm trees and lapping waves laughing at the choice to reside in harsher climates during the winter. The older I get, the more I understand their chuckling. I have a snowbird fluttering within me craving for the simpler days of their hibernation.
Yeah, it's pretty. But it's also work (that kept me from a run and the gym, but provided some cardiac exercise, nonetheless).
Our resiliency is creativity. Creative is he or she that plows through this mess with a smile.