At the end of January, I reported to my co-workers that I hadn’t fallen down this winter. Once February hit, I was regretting my bold statement as winter wreaked havoc on my otherwise uneventful, organized little life. I’ve come to accept the following inalienable truths of Wisconsin winter…
You Will Fall Down
I was on my way to a Super Bowl party, with an appetizer, Smirnoff Vodka and a lovely Orange/Mango fruit juice. As I came around the corner, both my legs slipped to the right and the rest of my body fell on the pavement. After a surprised shriek, I heard glass breaking and smelled Vodka piddling on to the pavement. Although I was tempted to lay there until someone offered me a fresh handle, I got up & smiled proudly at the amused bystanders. My father always said, “Don’t cry over spilled vodka.”
You Will Have Accidents
I pulled into my driveway a little too quickly and ran into a six-foot pile of rock hard snow. There was a U-shaped crack in my front bumper. My inclination was to curse the below-zero temperatures and hibernate in my house until the birds started chirping again. Instead, I apologized to my 2005 Honda Accord for being so careless, shrugged my shoulders and moved on with the rest of my day.
You Will Get Stuck
A bonafied blizzard dumped four-foot snowdrifts around my house at the beginning of February. I was stuck inside with an antsy dog and my ex-boyfriend. After three hours of shoveling, the plows still hadn’t come down the street. Although we could have argued all day or mistakenly fallen back into each others’ arms out of pure boredom, we went for a more productive alternative by watching Groundhog Day and discussing Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus.
You Will Rearrange Your Plans
I was pulling into my driveway again and got majorly stuck in a snow bank (the same one that cracked my bumper a few weeks earlier). As my forearms started burning and hunger set in, I actually thought to myself “maybe I can just wait until the snow melts.” When I cleared enough snow out of the way and revved the engine to free my poor car, “Celebration” started playing on the radio. I sat there and sang my heart out. Victory.
Winter reminds us that we are not in control and that we can stand (or slip) on our own two feet. The season teaches us perseverance, flexibility and patience. So the next time your chiseling ice off your back porch, wearing three Snuggies because the furnace went out or doing donuts on a main highway, try to remember that our Wisconsin winter builds character.