team prairie

In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan,

earth stood hard as iron, weather like a stone.

Christina Rosetti

 

 

I didn't blog last week because i had nothing to say, other than "i'm cold".

 

I'm not sure there's all that more to say this week, but here goes.

 

picture me here, on my couch in my living room, surrounded by paintings of flowers, a bouquet on the glass table in front of me.  i'm wrapped in a blanket, and you know why. i'm wracking my brain from something interesting to say.

 

outside i can see my lawn, but not all of it yet.  this week our bush magically reappeared after its long hiding, and we actually had to stick the "for sale" sign in the ground rather than in the snow.  we bought popsicles at costco, in great anticipation, and i've begun reaching for shoes rather than boots.  so, there are hopeful beginnings. 

 

but i'm still freakin' cold. 

 

in my favourite books by Louise Penny, there's a little Quebec town that is filled with delightful characters, and they love to talk about the weather.  i get it.  i am literally salivating at the mouth thinking about warmth.  last night i was in that wakeful dream state before finally taking the plunge into slumber, and i was imagining actually having to take off a blanket because i was too hot.  i dream of heat.  and i'm not alone, and that is why here in the prairies we talk about the weather.  it is our common enemy, or common triumph.  sometimes, it is truly capable of killing us, so we have to stick together.  we commiserate over pushing shopping carts in inches of slush.  we pass understanding looks at the gas station while shakily refueling.  we make sounds of exclamation when exiting or entering buildings.  we are team saskatchewan, and team winter is kicking our butts.

 

but at least we're a team.

 

which is why, despite what people keep saying to me, i will wholeheartedly miss the prairies.  i will miss the camaraderie and the kindness, the simplicity and pace.  the expectation that strangers will be helpful, or at the very least polite.   

 

and some day i will even miss the snow.

 

but today is not that day friends.  on saturday i was looking out the window at beautiful puffy snowflakes billowing down.  it was the perfect Christmas snowfall.  in late april.  it was at the same time visually magical and terribly depressing.  scott quickly checked the forecast and tentatively announced that "yes! this is the last snowfall".  i knew he was just saying that to keep me from completely breaking down, but it worked.  i stared out at those gorgeous flakes and thought "i may not see this again for years".  that really perked me up, and made me sad for reasons other than missing my lawn.  

so, for those of you who read my last entry where i asked for prayer for the colour green - you may want to search your lives for some unconfessed sins because those prayers have not been granted.  just a heads up.

come to think of it, i'd better do a moral inventory because my prayers are seemingly ineffective as well.  could this entire winter by my fault?  could God be using the snow as a means of his refining, the cold as a measure of my worth?  have the last 6 months been a trial so that i can leave this province a little bit easier?  does the world actually revolve around me?  has my mother been wrong all this time?!

possible.  but unlikely.

at the very least, this winter has made me even prouder to be on team prairie.  and i'll be on this team no matter where life takes me.