It won’t be long before we’ll all be there with snow
I want to wash my hands, my face and hair with snow
I long to clear a path and lift a spade of snow
Oh, to see a great big man entirely made of snow
Where it’s snowing
All winter through
That’s where I want to be
That’s what I’ll do
How I’m longing to ski
Through the snow-oh-oh-oh-oh
Those glist’ning houses that seem to be built of snow
Oh, to see a mountain covered with a quilt of snow
What is Christmas with no snow
No white Christmas with no snow
I’ll soon be there with snow
I’ll wash my hair with snow
And with a spade of snow
I’ll build a man that’s made of snow
I’d love to stay up with you but I recommend a little shuteye
Go to sleep
Songwriters: Guy Davis / Mark Olsen / Mike Williamson
Snow lyrics © Imagem U.S. LLC
Woke up this morning to the lyrics from this song in my head. Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney sang it in the movie White Christmas–one of my all time favorites.
Who knew I’d be thinking about snow in the middle of March after the driest January and February Chicago has ever seen? I can’t say I appreciate it with the same romanticism Crosby and Clooney do, in fact, just the opposite.
Sure, there’s something pretty about it, blanketing the ground with clean, sparkly whiteness that makes even the darkest nights look brighter because of the reflection.
But after the pretty, it just gets in my way. Plows go down the streets shoving all the snow into the curb cuts, which means streets become impassable for me and other people who use wheelchairs or mobility devices. The accessible parking spaces in many parking lots become the de facto dumping ground for the snow cleared out of the other areas of the parking lot leaving me unable to park and exit my car. Business owners and neighbors alike forget or choose not to shovel, limiting the places I can go.
I suppose if I was an outdoor winter sports kind of person I might feel differently about it. But the few forays I’ve had into the downhill ski world did not go well, and just left me frozen and frustrated. So, what’s a girl to do?
I suppose I can move somewhere that it doesn’t ever snow. But that isn’t the easiest choice to make, or probably the best choice at this time in my life.
Or, I can pretend to be a bear and hibernate for a few days until the inevitable warm-up and melt comes, order in some food, make some hot chocolate, put White Christmas on the DVD and pretend to be on that train to Vermont with Bing and Rosemary and Danny and Vera singing happy songs about what we can do in the snow. I think that’s what I’ll do instead.
See you after the thaw!