Not Ready for This!

On Thursday morning as I sat in the warm glow of my monitor perusing my emails on my MAC, I was happy and content.  Since it was still dark outside, I paid no attention to the elements.  However, as dawn began breaking, I noticed out of the corner of my eye some motion from my windows.  Upon closer examination I could tell it was snowing.  Snowing?  I was not ready for that.  I looked out my window and was surprised to see that not only was it snowing, but it had also snowed enough to turn the ground white.  I was not mentally prepared for this.

I have concluded that winter is not meant for old people, and since I am an old people, winter is not for me.  I recall as a kid eagerly anticipating winter, particularly snowy winter days.  Although school was infrequently called off way back when, on days that it was the opportunity would present itself for a myriad of activities to occupy the day away from school.  Included in these activities, but not limited to them was money making opportunities by walking the neighborhood and soliciting individuals to compensate me for shoveling their walks and driveways. That past time seems to be lost to todays young generation because rarely, if ever, are there any knocks at my door.

Another great winter past time that I dare not to even consider today was sled riding.  Most what stands out in my mind was sledding down the big hill at Stanbury park.  The negative was trudging back up the hill through the snow at the end of the descent.  But not so negative as to discourage me from making the trip repeatedly until I could no longer feel my feet or fingers.  Based on a news article I read this morning I would be fearful of running down a homeless person if I wanted to take the ride (which I do not).  Apparently numerous homeless camps do now pervade the once beautiful park of which I have many fond memories, both in the winter and in the summer.  Some of the memories I would love to share with you, others need to remain hidden in the deepest recesses of my mind.

The above confirms why I used to like winter.  None of that has anything to do with how I feel about winter now.  Several winters ago, I had the opportunity to spend most of December in Florida, on the Gulf Coast.  That, my friend, is how winter is supposed to be enjoyed.  I would much rather trek over sand dunes on my way to the water edge then trek through deep snow.  I would chuck it all and head to the sunny shores of the Golf in a New York minute, if only I could.  But I cannot.  The logistics of convincing my wife, my children, and my grandchildren to all go live in Florida are insurmountable.  I know, I have tried.

In conclusion, I must say I believe that winter is unfair to old people.   Winter makes me hurt in places I did not know, or remember, having.  I walk in fear of slipping on the ice and fracturing multiple bones.  I live in fear that our furnace will quit, and we will be found frozen in our beds.  I live in fear a Hugh snow drift will encapsulate the house, and we will not be found until the spring thaw.  None of the fears could come to fruition if we lived in Florida.  Would somebody start a GoFundMe page to send Tom to Florida?  I can only ask.

Until next Friday.  Stay warm.  My usual requests prevail, to share (which no one does) or subscribe (same as the other). Y’all take care now.  (I am pretending I have a southern accent from my long life in Florida.   Bye!