Tag: Winter

Old Man Winter Is On ONE!

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I wanted snow, I did not WANT ICE, too.

I am sharing a few photos from my walks with Jernee from Friday afternoon and Saturday morning. Don’t worry, I was NOT outside with her long. We were out long enough for her to do what she needed to do each time and we came back inside immediately after our adventures into the wild, wild, winterland.

A Saturday morning glimpse of snow and ice “around my way” #1. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
A Saturday morning glimpse of snow and ice “around my way” #2. I love the bareness of the trees and the road as it shifts up. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
A Saturday morning glimpse of snow and ice “around my way” #3. Walking around this part of my neighborhood is where it became tricky for my baby girl, Jernee. I had to pick her up and walk to the overpass where there is a hill and some covered area (patchy dirt and grass) that was protected from all this mess. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
The view from my 4th (technically, 5th floor) balcony on Friday afternoon. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Friday afternoon as Old Man Winter began his swoop into our neighborhood. See my little blue, compact Chevy Spark? Its name is Solo. I love that little car so much! Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Old Man Winter decided to shake his soul loose this past Friday and Saturday morning. And when he did, he only graced us with about two inches of snow and the rest was sleet, which led to ice and hazardous road conditions.

I stayed my hind-end at home the entire weekend because I have seen HOW these folks drive and witnessed my share of accidents. Black ice doesn’t care who you are, how you drive, or where you’re from.

It’s slicker than oil, and I want no parts of it!

I hope Sunday will be more than kind to all of you. And if you are in the areas affected by this winter storm, stay warm, dry, and safe.

Peace and blessings.

NaPoWriMo #3

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Winter’s Indecisiveness

Winter’s chill settles in
the clouds–hovers over my
city, unable to move forward.

I wake up to the cool air
trapped in my bedroom,
slide my body from the bed,
and close the windows.

42°, the Weather App reads.
I sigh and shuffle my
frozen, slippered-feet to the
kitchen for a cup of water.

The first few days of April
are always tricky here in
NC. We never know what
we’re going to get, and that
in itself, is a mystery to
digest.

If I had to Zodiac the weather,
I’d call it “Libra.”
Its intentions versus its
indecisiveness shines in
front of a shaky camera.

And we all benefit from it,
rather than shrivel up
within our skin like we
sometimes feel like
doing.

Winter, say “Hi” to spring
for me when you finally
set her free from the
hold you have on her.

Winter’s Mind Games

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Photo by Denys Nevozhai via Unsplash

She sits carelessly at the edge
of my weakened eyes.
I know what she wants.
I know what she needs.
She flits in and out of our
lives, carrying a depth we
cannot understand.

One day, she’s showering snow,
the next, she’s spitting rain down
on us and I am ready for her to
make up her mind.
I step outside to a burst of
cold air that wraps me up
instantly and settles in every
agile joint and I wince.

I layer up to deal with the
bitterness of her breath; my head
is completely covered.
My arms are flailing in protest.
What will the rest of this day bring?
It is half-past 10 in the morning;
the thermostat hasn’t budged.

I sneak back inside from a
dreaded walk, douse my hands
in warm water and soap, 
and, crawl under the comfort
of a thick blanket.

The other day, she blew a bit of
sun in our direction, falsifying
her presence.
I thought for sure, she’d
nestle up in my corner
and bank in on consistency.
I was wrong.

I talk to Winter. I tell her
how much I love her,
how much I appreciate her
yearly appearance, but we
have our disagreements.
I’m willing to acknowledge them
if she’s willing to be an adult
about her wishy-washy ways.

It is a quarter to 2 and the
afternoon is lingering on,
teasing me with her
physique. I’ve decided I’m
done being a toy for Winter.

She can run those
mind games on someone
else.

Originally published in P. S. I Love You via Medium.