Woke up this morning to snowflakes falling. They say, up here on the mountain, that winter isn’t over until it snows on the Dogwoods. My friends, who have Dogwood trees swear that this is true, and who am I to argue? I do know that Dogwoods are blooming now, and it is snowing.

I am so ready for winter to go away. I love watching snowflakes fall out of the sky and cover the pines and cedars and oak trees. Our wood-burning stove makes the house cozy and my chair is close and I am comfy. I am sated with all that and now I am anxious for warmth from the sun. Even Spring cleaning sounds appealing. Every inch of the house has a fine layer of soot. It looks like dust, but I know it is more serious than that.

From my window, I see that the big flakes have stopped and what looks like a mix of snow and rain is misting down. I can’t make up my mind about going to my morning meeting. I’m sure I could get across town because the roads are not snowy. But can I get back up the mountain in 3 more hours? There is no way to tell that. The temperature is still below freezing and there is no sun trying to peak out.

I really hate this kind of decision! Especially when, like now, the snow starts back up at a stronger pace than it was 2 minutes ago. The weather report said 100% chance of snow, all day long. A different report said it would rain all day. Sigh.

I finish my coffee and tell myself to buck up and act like a mountain woman. I’ve lived in the mountains for 10 years now. I have a Subaru cross trek, warm leggings, and boots to protect me. I got bundled and layered, said goodbye to my dog, and went out into the drizzle. It kept snowing lightly all morning, but nothing stuck to the road. On the way home, it rained gently. And now, I am parked in my recliner, next to the fire, thinking seriously about a nap.

Very Seriously.