Standing at the front door, I'm looking at Spring in the Northwoods.
About 3-4" of it.
And the flakes are so big you can hear them hit. No lie.
They're not really individual flakes. More like clumps. Groups.
Little frozen flash mobs looking for a mall. And finding my yard.
And Phlegm the Taurus.
I wander out to start Phlegm, getting snow in my shoes and being gently pummeled by the flash mobs.
I lean in and turn the key. Phelgm starts immediately with a quiet, disgusted sigh. I concur.
"Yeah, buddy. I know. It sucks."
Back inside I pour some Elixir of Knowledge and resume my post at the door.
It's a grade-school Bible camp flashback.
Cabin 4's pillow fight.
It was epic.
A pummeling for the ages.
Probably still being talked about in hushed, awed whispers at the Camp Counselor Retirement Home in northwestern Iowa.
This snowfall also brings to mind chickens in a cyclone.
Yeah, I grew up in Iowa.
Phelgm is going to take another 20 minutes or so to warm-up and clear off.
I refill the Elixir and plop down in the Chair to wait.
Hurry up and wait.
Hurry up and ...
Hurry ...
The snow gliding past the window has a tranquilizing effect, like one of those screensavers from the Web.
Not like that screensaver that comes with Windows where it looks like you're driving at 2 in the morning, in a blizzard, on the back roads, dodging deer and drunks.
Now that's an adrenaline booster.
No, this is very calming.
Mesmerizing.
But a thought keeps popping up and it bothers me.
What good is this snow mess now?!!
The roads were finally clear.
We found out we DO have a concrete sidewalk and there are shingles on the roof.
Winter should be over.
Why? Why now? And wait for it ...
God - don't You care anymore?
Why are you punishing me?
My mind is off and running, channeling my best mental impersonation of Charleton Heston. You know, with those dramatic motions and face grimaces.
Why, God? WHYYYYYYYYY?!!!
Then a small, quiet thought enters stage left.
"Because I love you."
Huh?
"It's a gift. Enjoy it."
Huh.
Well, no offense, Lord, but a gift would be like 70 degrees.
With a convertible.
70 degrees and a convertible.
That's the gift.
Snow and Phlegm is kinda like getting underwear for Christmas.
A let-down for sure.
But the more I thought about it, He's right.
He's always right, you know.
I know He loves me.
And wants the best for me.
Huh.
Well, this weather does make you slow down and wait.
And think.
So I guess it makes sense.
And I s'pose I can always use new underwear.