Count me in as a cold weather fan


Mile High Thoughts


For the first time in a long time, Texas actually got snow.

Areas around the state reported anywhere from a dusting to six or more inches.

As it was snowing in early December, I texted my sister about how there were actual flakes falling from the sky. She replied saying I was probably just mistaking it for hail.

The snow was magical. It reminded me of being home in Colorado again.

Driving past the car lot and seeing cars covered in snow and the lights reflecting giving them that sparkle was magical. It felt normal and comfortable. It felt like home.

This past weekend as temperatures dropped below freezing, I again was at home. The chill you get when you walk outside and the air hits your cheeks and the gray skies with a few tiny flakes floating.

It brings back so many memories.

Memories of standing out in the cold waiting for the school bus to come, bundled up warm, but secretly hoping it wouldn’t show up so we didn’t have to go to school.

Memories of returning to Nebraska after Christmas break and our dorm heater was out, perfect for the subzero temperatures.

As my father-in-law went in to prepare the roads for TxDOT, more memories flooded of the icy and snowy road conditions.

Here in Texas, it’s all about the preparation as it is uncertain of when the ice will hit.

At home, it’s assumed the roads will ice over and maybe even have layers of snow. At the first fall of a flake, you see salt and sand trucks drive the streets to keep drivers safe.

There were many times we would follow these trucks home. It was like winning the lottery, as you knew the road ahead of you would be safe.

This wasn’t always the case though.

One morning my sister and I were driving to school in our mini-van after about four or five inches of snow. The route we often took, required driving up a short, steep hill, with our school just on the other side.

As we drove carefully and slowly, we approached the hill only to find multiple cars that had gotten stuck or were in the process of sliding down.

The confident 17-year-old in me believed our blue van could make it. Boy, was I wrong. About half-way up we got stuck and we were going to be late for school.

The only option was to turn around and head the long way to school. For my sister, it meant getting out of the car and walking up the hill to the school just so she wouldn’t get a tardy on her attendance record.

While I am sure many of you stayed inside this weekend sitting by the fire in blankets and fuzzy socks, I decided to venture out and walk my restless dog.

I got covered in a hat and gloves and puffy coat and began my journey into the cold, feeling just like those times walking to the bus stop.

As I was walking, I was reminded of my mom who always made sure our dogs got walked, even when it was snowing. Those were some of the most peaceful walks, like you had the whole world to yourself because most people aren’t crazy and they stayed inside.

It was much the same. I had the whole neighborhood to myself as the cold air hit my cheeks, turning them rosy.

It was also a great way to start the New Year — peacefully.

2017 was a good year. I got married, got a puppy and spent time with family and friends.

And it even snowed in Texas.