Ah, February

Ah, February

You are managing to pack a more than your fair share of cold and snow and sleet and ice and rain into your days this year.

We've been hit with one storm after another this month.  Now, if I still lived in Minnesota, I'd expect this weather.  If I still lived in Minnesota, I wouldn't have any illusions about being able to make it around in the winter with a Mustang as my only means of transportation.  I don't still live in Minnesota, so I'm having a bit of trouble getting around this month.

I've been driving my convertible for thirteen years now.  In a more usual Kansas City winter, there are about 3-5 days where the streets are too icy to safely take the car out.  (I've been fine with that because if the streets are too icy for the car, they're too slick to be safe.  I'm past the stage where I think I need to risk life and limb to get to work when the streets are in rough shape.  Especially since technology allows me to work from home!)  This month, we've been hit with a new storm every week.

About the time I dig out, another wave hits.  Two weeks ago, it was snow.  Last week, it was a good inch of ice, this week's weather brought a beautiful powdery snow.  There's more ice moving in tonight, another round of something forecast for Tuesday.

And so, for the first time in years, I find myself questioning my choice in transportation.  How many days can I stay home because of ice before I get in trouble at work?  Perhaps it would be wise to join the herd and get an all-wheel drive something that sits up a bit higher and is able to get around in the muck without trouble.

In this case, if I just put off making any sort of decision for just a few weeks, procrastination will be on my side.  It's already the middle of the month, and February can't last forever.  Already, the days are a bit longer.  When it's not cloudy, the sky is starting to lighten up by seven in the morning.  It's not yet dark by six in the evening. 

And, the snow is beautiful.  Down deep, in my heart of hearts, this is what winter is supposed to look like.  White, clean, almost too bright to look at in the sunlight.  Don't tell my neighbors, but I don't even mind the shoveling - there's something about being outside in the quiet cold, working hard enough that I leave layers of garments trailing in my wake, that feeds my spirit.  (as long as the power is on.  turn off the promise of warmth when the job is finished, and all bets are off!)

March will usher in spring, and once spring comes I'll be able to put the top down on my way to and from work.  When those days come, I'll know this once again:  I have exactly the right car for me.

This, too, shall pass.