This afternoon, my sister (also a 2to4aday-er) was in town, and she suggested that we walk outside before she headed back to the Cities. Outside—glorious outside! So we bundled up (it was still a sunny 24 degrees at 4 p.m.) and walked two miles on the snow-packed streets near my house. Even though we were slip-sliding around a bit, it felt wonderful to be outdoors again. Our stocking caps, turtle necks, and mittens didn’t at all interfere with feeling that maybe the worst of the winter was past—a genuine hopeful sign.
And tonight when Tom and I sat down to eat dinner, the sky in the west was still a little pink. For some reason, the food tasted better with some natural sunlight glinting on the leftover roast beef and reheated butternut squash and shimmering through the water in the Brita pitcher. After two months of going to work in the dark, coming home in the dark, and eating in the dark, the fact that the sky was still a little light at dinner was an encouragingly hopeful sign.
It’s maybe a little too soon to gloat that we’ve made it—to brag that we’ve survived another Minnesota winter. Maybe we won’t be able to honestly say that until April. But I feel like we might have turned a corner. And yes, tomorrow night some Alberta Clipper or Manitoba Mauler or Saskatchewan Screamer is scheduled to swoop down from Canada—16 degrees below zero tomorrow night, according to some sadistic weather forecaster. But at least there’s no snow in the forecast, just cold—so that’s got to be a hopeful sign.
We can make it. We can make it. We can make it.