When a person’s sanity is questioned for living here, Southerners are swift to mention the unusually warm weather as a clear advantage to Northern states, a geographical superiority if you will.
I imagined running around in a tank top, skirt and flip flops throughout the dead of winter, while my Northern friends are rendered immobile under layers of thermal underwear, snow pants, turtlenecks, scarves, ear muffs, puffy coats and mittens. I held on to my car ice scraper, just in case I needed it, and to rent out to the unprepared natives with iced over cars to make a fast buck. But the heavy duty snow shovel and alpine glider sled didn’t made the move from Columbia. Why would I need them anymore, right?
Last Friday, December 4, my weather fantasies were quickly dashed as I watched snowflakes float from the sky. It was glittery, bringing new light to the ordinary landscape. I called up my momma in Kansas who said they hadn’t had any form of inclement ice, sleet or snow, of course.
Although I feel somewhat gipped by promises of sunny, hot days in months when Missouri and Kansas have temperatures in single digits, the snow did remind me of home and that’s always a welcome feeling.