Anxiety About the White Stuff

Having spent ten years in a place where I actually saw snow in July, Halloween costumes were typically covered by winter coats, and my eyebrows would frost from my own breath, I have to say that I do not miss a single degree of cold, a single crystal of frost or a single flake of snow.

                But, I find that winter in St. Louis does have its adjustments.

                Our first “snow storm” came right before New Year’s.

It was awesome.  About 10 in the morning, the snow started coming down fast in great big flakes.  A constant swirl of white danced outside my office window, and the longer it came down, the more stressed I got.

Why?  Because I don’t have studded tires on my car.

Instead of enjoying the beauty of snow falling, I was worried about my drive home.  Nobody in St. Louis has studs – and it was snowing.  Lots of beautiful fat flakes were falling to the pavement and I was convinced that any minute they would start accumulating and make my drive home a nightmare.

I thanked my lucky stars that I had had the foresight to get a room for the night after the New Year’s Party since I didn’t want to be driving home on a snow-covered road with a bunch of drunks turning their cars into toboggans. 

Anxiously, I checked the pavement out of the windows every hour or so.  I watched as the grass (which was still green) was slowly blanketed in cottony whiteness.  As the day progressed, a bit of snow encroached on the shady area of sidewalks.  Any minute, any minute, I just knew it would start to accumulate on the roads.

Right?

No, this is St. Louis.  In November, the roses were still in bloom.  Early in December, I was still wearing flip-flops.  And when it snows, even the first good snow of the year, it doesn’t mean that you have to break out the boots, wonder how long the line at the tire place will be, or leave the office 45 minutes early so that hopefully you’ll beat all of the people who decided to leave 30 minutes early. 

Yes, I know that St. Louis does actually have snow accumulate on the streets. On occasion.  And then it melts, quickly, into memory.