I Hate Winter . . .

by Linda Coors on December 19, 2011

"I hate winter! I hate the cold. I hate the snow. I hate the way winter makes life so much harder. I hate having to put on a coat, hat, scarf, mittens and boots just to get out and go to the grocery store."

Those Destroyer thoughts started popping into my head sometime in late September, I suppose, as I realized the long days of summer were starting to come to a close in Northern Ohio, and we had a what always seems to be a very short fall to look forward to. Then I started having a conversation with myself that went something like this:

"Linda, if you hate winter and being outside in winter, how can you be promoting the Come Alive Outside movement?"

"I don't know. That's really kind of hypocritical, isn't it? When did I start to hate winter so much?"

Igloo TunnelI think it was when I quit having fun and enjoying getting outside to play. Life has become so busy that it just seems inconvenient to deal with winter. I think back to childhood memories. Perhaps my well-intentioned mother has something to do with my attitude today. I can remember being just a little girl, maybe about five, and wanting to go outside and build a snowman. Mom said, "It's too cold for you to go outside," so she set me up by a window to watch while she, Dad and one of my uncles built the snowman right outside the window. I guess she thought I just wanted to see a snowman and didn't really get that I wanted to experience building the snowman.

IglooDad was a little different from Mom. I think he was still a child at heart, and one winter when I was around 11, he and my Uncle Andy decided they would build a huge sled. It ended up being big enough to hold 10 people on it, and we got on while Dad hooked it to a tractor and dragged us down the roads around our house. The roads were so snow covered at the time that there was no other traffic on them. Dad and Uncle Andy then decided to hose down the very hilly driveway at Grandma's house and created an icy surface just for smaller sleds, and my sisters and cousins and I spent hours of fun riding down them on our dad's backs. Was it cold? It was absolutely freezing! But, no one cared. That's what hot chocolate was for!

Children Playing in SnowLater on, I had children, and I'm thankful for my husband playing with them in the snow. (Men must stay children longer than women.) When my boys were just two and three, we lived in an apartment, and the one memory they have of that apartment is "that night Dad took us out and pulled us all around the fields on a sled in the snow." The moonlight was streaming through the trees that night, the snow was beautiful, and they all had a blast. Later on, he built igloos with the boys and my daughter, and my job this time was to be the hot chocolate maker.

It's been good for me to think on these memories again and be reminded of why I used to love winter. I hope I can recapture that desire for fun and banish the words "I hate winter" from my mind and mouth. Join me in once again appreciating the beauty of winter and let's Come Alive Outside even when the snow is blowing and it would be more comfortable to stay snuggled up inside.

Linda Coors, Director of Training
JP Horizons

Do you have a story to share about why you enjoy winter now or maybe a childhood memory? Tell us about it in the comment space below. 

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Gerald Travis December 19, 2011 at 9:50 am

Thank you for the article – it brought back memories; and although we have never met, the photos brought back the most vivid memories, especially the photo of the snow cave.
When I was about 10 my friend Michael and I built a snow fort in one of the huge piles of snow my dad had created when he shoveled the driveway. Another friend, Mark, also built a fort in his driveway and upon completing his fort he began bragging about how much better his fort was than ours. As you can guess, those were fightin’ words and unfortunately, or so I thought, for my friend, I was paying attention in school and had just learned how to build a bomb that would completely destroy his miserable fort.
After my cocky friend had gone in for the night, I sneaked into our little red brick hose and acquired the bomb components; water and a quart jar (with lid). I took the quart jar, filled it 100% full and put the lid on – tight! You see, I had just learned that when water freezes it expands and I knew that the key to a good bomb was a full jar and a tight lid; the tighter the better, I could just imagine the pressure that would be building
With my bomb in hand I sneaked out the back door, to the street, between the cars, dug a hole in that loser fort, planted the bomb and then hurried home and jumped into bed. I could hardly sleep I was so excited to see that stupid fort scattered all of his driveway and the street.
Boy was I disappointed! All I got out of that experience was one less bottle of canned peaches the next year and with a little luck my friend Mark got in trouble for the broken jar that was discovered when the snow melted.
The best thing about winter now, 50 years later?
Night hikes here in our beautiful mountains. There is nothing like being on a mountainside high above the valley floor, breathing hard and standing in and surrounded by freshly fallen snow. The view of the lake below, which is bordered on the near side by the twinkling lights of the city and on the other side by Antelope Island and Frary Peak which rises 2500 feet above the surface of the lake, is breathtaking and beckons a quite reflective moment or two. That is the best thing about my winters. 
Merry Christmas, and thank you again,
Gerald Travis
Amcor Masonry Products


Andrea Beach December 19, 2011 at 6:14 pm

Linda, Thank you for sharing this. I share some of your memories since “Uncle Andy” was my Dad. Those sled rides down Grandma’s driveway were, I think, a precious part of many of our memories. I also remember the moms making popcorn balls to go with that hot chocolate. My Mom would also play outside with us. We have pictures of the 3 kids with my Mom at the top of a snow hill made by a snow plow. After we almost froze during the blizzard of ’78, my Dad bought a snowmobile (and a wood burning stove). We had HOURS of fun on that snowmobile! It’s true that Dad and Uncle Chet were kids at heart. You have inspired me to play outside with my own boys when that snow comes! Andrea Beach


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