There are no sidewalks. I think that's what has confounded me most about this winter. I'm used to walking for miles. Pushing Bo to daycare in the stroller, then meandering back with P. That's in nearly all weather.
Last year, any time it was above freezing we were out there in the neighborhood getting fresh air and using our legs. But around here it's up the homeowner to shovel the walks. After the first big storm many did. After the second, fewer did. And as the snow kept piling up more and more sidewalks disappeared.
No sidewalks means no walking beyond strolling down the block to knock on doors and see if friends are home.
We have done all the crafts. I mean all of them. P. has been digging through the art closet almost every afternoon in the hope of finding some new kit or activity we haven't already cracked open. We have made paintings and sketched. Paper towel tubes have become car launchers.There are masterpieces hanging on every wall. Drying on every surface.
We have brought snow inside. Played outside. Both kids are cleaner than they have ever been because bath time is fun so everyone is now bathing multiple times per day. Speaking of days, snow days have put me so behind on work that I feel like I'm never going to catch up no matter what I do. Forget babysitting the kids with TV - I'm desperate to put myself in front of the damn thing so I can zone out forever.
I have been and am just plain tired of this winter.
Then today I noticed a leaf had dropped off my desert rose onto my desk. I picked it up to toss it out, and that's when I noticed the leaf had sprouted not just a skinny pink-tipped root but also a tiny blossom. Instead of shriveling up and dying, when it fell it decided to become a whole new plant.
I don't know that there's a lesson there that can be applied to how overwhelmingly stifling this winter has been. But there's a lesson there and I think it's for me and given long enough, I'm going to find it.