It is generally of no surprise to anyone that I am not a fan of living in the mountains. I grew up in a more suburban area, and I loved being in the middle of things there. Now, although I live only 30 minutes away from where I grew up, I feel I am light years away from that place. And I hope that someday I will return there.
Up here in the mountains, we had some beautiful fall colors on the trees not too long ago. However, after one windy day, I can look out my window and see nothing but bare branches and a leaf-covered hard. In fact, my husband is outside raking leaves as I write this. The gray sky and the disappearing light (at 4:30 in the afternoon!) makes it feel more like January, not November. I can only hope that the snow is not heading our way any time soon.
In the past few years, I have really become timid about driving in the wintry weather. Part of the problem is that we are not really in a nice, white, fluffy snow area. Instead, we get snow storms followed by ice storms followed by more snow, which often equates to even my AWD vehicles not being able to drive up the long, steep, unpaved driveway for up to four months at a time. Instead, I have to place these spiky attachments that my mom got me and hike my way to the top. This is fine when I have nothing to carry, but after a big trip to the grocery store? Not so great.
The other thing that happens when the wintry weather hits is that I stop leaving my house, unless I have to. The reasons I have to leave include work and my two social outings of the week, my bowling league and my yoga class. Luckily, I have Otto to keep me company on those long days at home. And I tend to be a homebody anyway. However, on day two or three of the homebound life, I do tend toward stir crazy. And this is why thinking about the upcoming winter already is causing me some anxiety. I just hope that it isn’t as icy as last year.