Ahh, yes, springtime in Vermont. Yesterday we had our supper sitting outside on the deck. Morning coffee...inside, looking out at the snow.
By noon, I had to go out and knock snow accumulation off the sagging lilac bush before limbs started snapping. According to the weather report, the snow is not going to let up until tomorrow morning. Yikes! Then, they predict a high of 82 for the weekend.
We have had an unusually lovely April so I won't complain, but this scene is pretty typical. The only time I ever got stuck in my driveway was an April snow storm that dropped two feet of snow over night. The guy who plowed our driveway had already taken the plow off his truck, but he did notice my plight and he came over with a chain to pull me out. Of course, it was snowing here in the mountains but not in the town where I worked. I could hear the eyeballs rolling over the phone when I called to say I would be late.
Vermont can be a beautiful state, but winters tend to be dark, long, and SAD depressing for some. At the same time, I know plenty of people who love Vermont winters for the skiing or for the huddling in. Mike and I belong to the former group. There isn't enough Prozac in the world to get me through a Vermont winter now that I am retired.
So how did I get here? I was dragged here by my parents and then never left for very long. My parents were from Pennsylvania, where I was born. My dad was a coal miner like his dad before him. (I was a coal miner's daughter, but Loretta Lynn already wrote that book. I count it among the missed opportunities of my life.) Anyway, he was lucky enough to get a job at IBM in Poughkeepsie, NY. We moved there when I was three. IBM opened a plant in Vermont in 1957 and my dad moved us all up here soon after. He was very seriously considering between California and Vermont, but I think the rest of the family being in the East made the decision. Still, you always wonder about those forks in the road and what might have been.