I thought I’d left behind the sub-zero temperatures when I
moved from Wisconsin back to Oregon nineteen years ago. And I had, until this
year. Not that it doesn’t get cold in Oregon, it does—but not usually where I
live. Cold here means the thermometer is hovering around 25-30 degrees. But
this year...
This year, things are a bit on the frigid side. The past
week I saw a minus sign on the temperature WAY too much. Every day, I think.
The coldest was -8, which for a lot of people, that might not be too bad but
when I’m working outside, it’s COLD! Yes, I’ve been in much colder temps, even
worked outside in them, but now that I’ve acclimated to a warmer climate, my
body doesn’t deal well with weather that refuses to go above zero. Or, maybe
I’m just older than I used to be.
If you saw last week’s post, you may remember I had a
lingering cold, and I still do. It’s hard to get better with all the time I
spend outside in this weather. Even when I get home from work, there’s
shoveling to do.
But then, there is a bright side to all of my woes. My
grandson loves to help grandpa shovel. Sometimes that means dumping a shovel
full of snow on my head, or putting the snow back on the sidewalk I’ve just
cleaned but the look on his face while he is “helping” makes it all worth it.
A few weeks ago, he was helping clear off the deck and
behind me, I hear his sweet three-year-old voice say, “Grandpa, I’m really
sorry. But, I love you.”
When I turned around to see what had happened, I was met by
a huge snowball to the face. The light fluffy snow easily broke apart and found
its way inside my coat and the filtered down my neck. I let out a gasp and
after catching my breath, went inside to dry off and warm up. My grandson
thought it was a slap-the-leg hilarious moment.
Yesterday, we were again shoveling off the deck and having
learned my lesson, I didn’t turn my back to him. Of course, that didn’t deter
the child. With no warning this time, he scooped up a shovel of snow and, as
I’d taught him, threw it. Except it’s supposed to go over the deck railing.
This particular shovel full came right at my head.
As I was trying to clean the snow off my hat and face and
yes, down my neck again, I hear the little voice say, “Grandpa, do you remember
that I love you?”
Yes, I did, I told him. In fact, I think I’ll remember he
loves me for quite a while, probably every time I’m cold. And this year, that
will be often. ~
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