The Land of My Youth

Before living in Green Country I was born and reared in the mountains of Wyoming.  Winter meant six to eight months of cold, snow, wind and layers of clothing.  I thought nothing of it.... putting on boots, hat, gloves and maybe a pair of ski pants were as natural as brushing my teeth.

I no longer own winter wear.  I packed for my trip to Wyoming by including long sleeve shirts and a pair of felt boots that do little to keep my feet dry, but look darn cute with my jeans tucked inside their furry framed necks.

Watching my three grand daughters get ready for school in the morning is a brisk reminder of the winter life I left behind when I moved to Oklahoma.  

Mornings begin with static heads and footed pajamas opening a window in the Advent Calendar.  For some reason Cautious has taken to sleeping in a felt Santa hat.  Don't know if she is in the Christmas spirit or getting into character for the part she has been assigned in the school Christmas play.

After breakfast, the face washings, hair combings and teeth brushings, on go the school uniforms and then the snow pants, the jackets, hats and gloves.  Hats are essential outer wear, so why not make them a fun fashion flair too?

I dropped mom and the two older girls off at school in the morning while the snow flakes were mounting on rooftops and driveways.

I joined them for lunch three hours later to enjoy one of the first sunny days since I arrived six days ago.  It felt so good to be outside.  Even though the temperature gauge read 37 degrees it felt like a balmy day compared to the 16 and 20 below of previous afternoons. 

Muffin took full advantage of the sun to try out the school's new playground equipment.

Doesn't look like a little snow fall or cold weather stopped these gals from having a good time.

Later that afternoon, I noticed the moon peaking high in the sky. It was around 4:30p.m. and the sky was clear, the trees without movement held small patches of snow and there was a holy calm settling in on the neighborhood.  The air smelled clean.

It's times like this that I am thankful for the clean, crisp winter in the mountains..... no snow to shovel, only a light skiff coloring the sidewalks.... no wind biting my nose, just a sharp, clear calm.   

30. I am grateful for contrast... making me love both the green and the white of winter.

I hope your Friday rounds off your work week with a break into something needed and enjoyed.  I hope you are warmed by the people you spend time with.  I hope you are able to find a place of holy calm.

Yaya