Let it snow?

I’ve always hated snow. Even when I was a little girl, and everyone would rush outside at the first snow flake, I would sit inside, grumpy, looking out at those people frolicking and having fun. I think it’s the cold that does it.

Snow itself is a beautiful thing, I love waking up and looking out the window to see the world covered in a lovely white blanket, but as soon as it comes to stepping out the front door, I hate the bloody cold winter devil. As a kid I would never go sledding, I wouldn’t help my family build a snowman; I would hate my brother for throwing snowballs at me every time I had to leave the house, I wouldn’t tilt my head up and try to catch snowflakes on my tongue and I definitely would not touch snow.

Ever.

I was planning on blogging about my hatred of snow. I was planning on moaning about how cold it was, and how it was going to be difficult to cycle to campus and how I wouldn’t be able to leave the house. I was going to worry about not being able to get home for Christmas due to being snowed in. I was going to say that I’d never be able to get my essays in, because I wouldn’t dare leave the house. I was going to complain that snow is pretty, until even one person’s footprints mutilate the blanket of perfection, or a bit of mud gets into a patch of snow, or a car drives down a lane.

But then something changed.

This morning (3pm), I got ready and forced myself to go outside. I had to go to campus; there was no way out of it. I shivered and grumped as I struggled to unlock my shed due to some serious cold, and I stropped as I had to force my bike out of the disproportionately small doors. And then I got on my bike and slowly started to pedal.

And then, I almost fell off.

Instead of swearing at the snow and shouting obscenities about the hidden ice, I started laughing.

Uncontrollably and loudly.

No, I have not finally cracked, but I have realised that snow can be something which is to be enjoyed. I got back on my bike, dusted myself off just as a lovely man walking his dogs came past and gave me a massive grin and a cheery hello.

So I’ve been won over. I’m not promising I will touch the snow, or even spend too much time outside, but I will promise to stop writing poetry that claims that snow is evil and has a hidden agenda.

I’m sad that I can never get back those years as a kid, when I refused to join in with playing in the snow, and instead I sat with a book and a mug of hot chocolate. But I will try and make up for it now.

Saying that, I will still want to kill my brother if he throws even one ball of ice at me.

But that's justified, yes?

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