Brrr...

I continue to live in NW Pennsylvania because I don’t enjoy hot weather.  The summers are relatively cool (usually) and the winters -- well -- they are a bit more than cool, but I tell myself that the cold preserves me better. Earlier this season, even before the calendar start of winter, when what the weather people called an Arctic Express blasted Buffalo, it seemed too cold to snow here, but today is different.  I woke up to snow, and it has not stopped all day.  Now early evening, there looks to be a least a foot of the white stuff on the ground, not to mention deeper drifts, and it is still coming down.  Natives of this area would say that we are paying our dues for the seventeen days of sun this past summer or for a lovely autumn – several nice days in a row – maybe even three.   If you are not from around here, you need to realize that snow people believe that we will “pay” for every nice weather day we have throughout the “non-winter” month(s).  We simply cannot comprehend that there are places in the world that enjoy nice weather most of the time and where people don't know what lake-effect snow means.  I mean -- we know that there are places like that; we just don’t really get it. We live by our experience with weather and have begun to take some level of pride in our ability to survive. We often mention things like we are of hardy stock and take pride in our ability to keep a sense of humor when surrounded by white and gray from sky to ground. We also know that a person needs more than one type of snow shovel.  Bless our hearts. 

To make matters worse this time of year -- what I am finding now is that I don't enjoy winter as much as I did when I was younger.  Duh....  There are a few reasons. Snowshoes are no longer as much fun.  Ice has taken on new meaning now that my age group no longer jokes about broken hips... and... my eye balls sometimes seem to freeze during the time it takes to walk to my mailbox and back.  Yep -- new meanings. Winter no longer means ice-skating on Alice Lake at Mead Park, sledding on Piccadilly Hill, or spontaneous snowball fights. Then again it no longer means wool coats that when wet weigh twice your body weight. (Remember that wet wool smell of mittens and socks drying by the fire at Nichols lodge?  Actually -- I seriously don't miss that smell.)   

Then or now, winter weather is winter weather. As time passes, it takes longer and longer to get psychologically prepared for it even if we do have access to better winter clothing and to boots that do not require bread wrappers over our socks. Winter in NW Pennsylvania can be especially challenging, but then again -- there is a certain beauty to the change of the seasons here as well -- even if you start in early October to count the days until spring... even if you wonder if it will snow the night of the prom in May.  I think I will stay here for a while longer -- I am a snow person.

  Stay warm... 

Sleep? Anyone?

My son has joked more than once about how my generation thinks it can accomplish an entire day's work before his generation even rolls out of bed, and 8 AM is "sleeping in" for him.  That is funny, but let's face it...sleep, or lack thereof, is a bit of an issue for a lot of us Boomers.  I know this because sleep often comes up in conversation in a couple of different ways.

One way the topic emerges is with those who fret about their sleep habits, which naturally makes matters worse for them.  I know people who have taken "stuff" to help them sleep -- everything from prescription drugs to magnesium tablets.  I know people who have considered acupuncture and others who have gone to sleep clinics and now talk about things like REM sleep and sleep disorders.  You know what -- if I went to one of those places, I would be trying so hard to fall asleep that I never would -- never.  I would just lie there like a tense lump of sleeplessness.  (By the way... did you know that REM stands for rapid eye movement? At my point of "experience" I do know a huge number of informational tidbits -- some of which are relatively useless, but fun... many of which I learned by watching TV or by reading in the middle of the night.)

Then again -- it is important to consider another school of thought -- that individuals will sleep when they get tired enough.  This catching up sometimes happens spontaneously when sitting down for a few moments or -- when blinking.  A glance into the TV area during a televised sporting event or a look around during a church service will attest to this.   --- I am of this second school. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I figure that at some point I will be able to get away with a catnap or two to catch up, so I really don't fret too much about a lack of sleep.  Sometimes though after a wakeful night, I cannot let myself sit down even for a minute.   Really....  It's not safe on several different levels.  A case in point -- when my son was about two and I was pregnant with my daughter, I sat down for a moment, blinked, fell asleep and woke to find him standing in the toilet wearing his leather baby shoes. The sleeping issue has been going on for a while in my life.  My son is 37 years old now.

Truly -- what we grew up calling a "full night's sleep" may be a thing of the past for many of us and certainly we do handle the situation in different ways. Yet  -- one of my cousins said recently that she has solved the problem for herself.  She has figured out that if she only goes to bed every other night, she can sleep for 6-8 hours in a row. Stop laughing.... Actually she may be on to something.  I was awake in the middle of the night this week and watched an "interview" with Deepak Chopra.  When asked about insomnia, he said that if you can force yourself to stay awake for 48 hours, your biological clock will reset itself.  I know that I was not dreaming this.  I am almost always awake in the middle of the night.  I sleep in shifts.  It usually works for me.  You?   

Best laid plans of mice and men...

Sometimes plans (and life)  just take a different direction than anticipated. I had been working on two blog posts -- one on winter weather in Northwest Pennsylvania (there is plenty of time for that one yet) and another post on what seems to be the early arrival of December and a rapidly approaching Holiday season.  Then -- I took a break to check Facebook and found a short video clip of my seven year old grandson trying to remove the second of his two front teeth. It had been hanging by a "thread" for an annoyingly long time.  I just simply have to tell you about the process.  

In the video he is sitting on the couch next to his little sister who is, of all things, watching him while calmly eating popcorn.  She's right -- he is a show (so is she; they just don't know it). Anyway  -- this is his approach....  Using dental floss, he has tied his tooth to a Nerf bullet which he then loads into a Nerf gun and pulls the trigger.  He does this three times. Two of the three times that spongy "bullet" comes flying back, hits him on the top of the head, and bounces back into his lap -- a perfect soft ricochet. The third time I don't know where it goes. (By this time I am laughing so hard that I can't keep my eyes open.)  At this point the tooth is barely attached and it is a simple matter to just give it a little tug to remove it. What is there to say?  My grandson definitely has a flare for the dramatic.  My granddaughter finds him most amusing.  She is not alone.  I, of course, find both the tooth puller and the popcorn eater amusing. 

The thing is -- there is something very touching about this whole "adventure".  He is a courageous and creative young man, but just before he pulls the trigger of the Nerf gun, he reaches over to grab his Mom's hand.  He doesn't say anything, just reaches out to her.  I must admit, I find watching this whole process hysterically funny and... extremely touching.  Who says you can't laugh and cry at the same time?  Not me.