I miss the snow (winter lament)
In primary school, teachers would give warnings out if we even attempted to lob a snowball at someone else. The biggest tragedy was walking through the sludge, but at least you could get a laugh out of a massive sleet of snow falling from the assembly hall roof onto the unassuming. At least, when my sibling could only be transported by an arm (or a cot), we could use that as an excuse for why mum couldn't walk me to school. On Yellow Hill, we would sled, though there were many small slopes to sled on in these flat lands. And Yellow Hill stood on top a couple of slopes. You would sled down one, shuffle along the path, and then sled down a larger slope. You would crash and roll, but at least you held onto hope that £250 would be yours because the nation loves YouTube's predecessor, You've Been Framed.
But then we got less snow. The snowmen sulked. Sludge flooded. Eventually, snow arrived later, booked the winter off because Spring was offering room at a cheaper price. But even then snow eventually took to being a minimalist.
Now there's occasionally the dreaded black ice, and the closest luxury we can ever appreciate anymore at this time is the frost-coated cars. Speaking of cars, on my walk today, there was a car parked at the end of my street with reindeer antennas attached to them, and a big red nose where a car nose would be. That made me smile, but I knew if no one decorated their homes, we'd lose the spirit of a snowed-in winter. Now it's just cold, really cold, and fireplaces are no more. But at least our Christmas tree is up (it's a reusable one we've held onto for my entire life), and the decorations are beautiful, and I've taken the initiative to surprise mum with a present. A gradient pink wine glass she can drink her equally pink Rose from.
It's humbling, all this. Of course Britain must forever bask in its mundanity. The grey filter on everything almost slipped during my childhood. God forbid. I hate the cold, but at least there was fun to be had. At least nan had her old house by the kennels (RSPCA) with a big fireplace and the whole family. A silly family board game, a feast, a girly pop box of swag for little me to indulge. Sometimes it was dolls, one other time a Monster High branded chemistry set. And then I'd sleep in my designated single bed and know I could then spend the next couple of days, or weeks, with the gifts I had.
But now I only hear, "check out this snow," from across the pond. And admittedly, I'm really bitter about it. I don't want to take anyone away from their fantasy lands, and one day I could flee the mundane world. But I'm stubborn, and in my head this world beats the idealistic but unrealistic. At the very least, snow is a pleasant memory, and I can hope to work towards a situation where winter for my children is in the alps, or up north, sipping Icelandic freshwater and skiing a small slope (because big slopes have scared me since that one Hannah Montana episode).
Reply via Email! ✰ First published 18/12/2023 and last modified 1 year, 5 months ago.