Storm

It's hard to talk about weather, as strange as that might sound. In New England, it seems that weather is often all we talk about. Right now, for instance, it's snowing, the wind is blowing, and nearly everything is closed. We're expected to get at least two feet of snow by the time this storm is over.

It's easy for me to say I like snow and stormy weather because I have a warm house, enough food to eat, and people to keep me company. I know there are those who don't have any of these things. I also know the damage storms can do and have done, too often, in recent years.

So it's a little hard to talk about liking storms, just as it's hard to complain about them. But this blizzard reminds me of the endless number of snow storms we had two years ago, when drifts piled high above our heads because the snow never had time to melt before another 15 inches fell.

That was the winter we decided to get a puppy. We drove up to Maine to see her for the first time in a snow storm. Soon after Clementine arrived home, it began to snow and seemed never to stop. She needed to be taken out almost around the clock. My children had promised they would help take care of this sweet dog, but I had to nag them constantly to do it, and I felt resentful. At the time, I had more pressing family responsibilities than usual, and I wondered if I should have taken on one more. I cried often.

There wasn't one moment that turned everything around. The snow still fell, the wind still howled, and the dog still needed to go out. It just got easier, little by little. My friends who had dogs had said it would, and they were right. By the time Spring arrived, we were OK. And miracle of miracles, the next winter it hardly snowed at all. I was grateful for that.

I realize my struggle that winter was nothing compared with what people deal with all too often. And I can honestly say I'm back to liking winter. Clementine likes it better than any of us. It's almost as if she was born for snow.