There's the idea of the magic of a white Christmas and then there's the reality

I will readily admit it. When it comes to snow I'm a total wimp. I hate it. No... loathe would be a better word. 

Snow sounds very good in theory. The thought of a white Christmas seems so magical. Maybe if I could have snow on just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (snow that didn't kill all my sub-tropical plants in the garden), I'd like it. But once Christmas was done, I'd want someone to come and roll it all up and take it away, giving me back the mild climate I've grown to love here in the San Francisco Bay Area.

If I really want to see snow, I only have to drive about 3 hours and I'll be in the winter wonderland of the high Sierra Nevada mountains where snow bunnies and snowboarders flock to ski slopes throughout the colder half of the year. Sometimes, even our own mountain and hills are capped in lovely white so that when I crest the hill on the road that takes me out of our little niche, I see a majestic white peak dominating the panoramic scene before me.

But I don't want snow anywhere near me or my garden.

I tell people that I did my time.

Years of my childhood were spent in the harsh cold that envelopes the Rocky Mountains. At well above a mile high in elevation (almost 8,500 ft to be exact) snow could come as early as September and as late as June. I walked to and from the school bus stop in it for a half mile every school day as a little girl. I spent several Easter Sundays hunkered down inside as a blizzard raged outside keeping our family home from church. I spent many nights with my family huddled around a fireplace burning kerosene lanterns because the power was out from downed power lines due to heavy snow. As a little girl I read Laura Ingalls' book "Little House in the Big Woods" for the first time and could relate very well. Snow was real. It wasn't magical. It was a harsh reality for 9 months out of the year.

Yes... I did my time in the snow. I am not wistful for the proverbial white Christmas. I'll take the foggy Christmases of the Bay Area any day.
Pin It!


  1. I hear ya! My husband and kids were our family's snow lovers, though Virginia doesn't experience anything close to what you describe. As soon as the ground would whiten, he and the girls would bundle up and play until they were exhausted. Me? It was my job to be inside, watch them play, admire their snow creations, make cocoa, and deal with all the soggy outerwear.

  2. Cindy, I hear you, I remember slogging through such snow as a kindergardener, they didn't drive us to school in those days.

    It's both wonderous, and nasty...and before we moved up here I was sitting on the fence, snowcovered of course, about whether or not I would love it. It's part of life here, and I deal with it, looking out my window at the winter wonderland, the snow covered trees, and the sunlight peering through them, yes, I made a good decision. But come spring in March when it's still here, you know that I will be complaining.

    I'm a gardener, and I guess I can't have it both ways, but I would like it that way...sun and heat, and snow gone by February.


  3. We had our white Christmas on Christmas night. It was nice to enjoy from inside. It made for a slightly dicey drive to work the next morning for The Doctor until he got to the freeway, which was clear. It is nearly melted today, which is the way I like it. A few inches, not feet, and it went away quickly! I don't hate it, but I don't love driving in it and I don't love the wet soggy clothes! I do love watching the boys have fun in it though.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

© 2007-2015 All rights reserved by Cindy Garber Iverson.
All images, photos and writing
(unless otherwise noted)
belong to Cindy Garber Iverson.
Use of content in digital or print form is strictly forbidden without written consent.
Just ask... I may say "yes".
Photography Prints Invites & eCards
//Pin it button