The Dead (Beat) of Winter

I am not sure if I like the phrase “dead of winter.” Yes, I know it alludes to the coldest time of the year. And I know that when everything goes into hibernation, including humans, we all get a zombie like glaze that is quite common in the Midwest area. But even dead zombies don’t really appear dead.
I firmly believe in the disorder called SADD – Suddenly our Action Definitely Declines. It’s a natural phenomenon that occurs somewhere between the first bowl touchdown and the final markdown sale of Christmas items. We become total slugs. Our goal is to nest, stay warm, eat chili and perfect the art of being a couch potato.
The dead of winter is not really a fun time. The sun goes down by noon, reruns are on television, static runs amuck in hair and clothing, we have to wear ugly boots with our cute dresses and my dogs track in more mud, snow and ice than a polar bear hunting in a frozen bog.
Sure there are those that still go to the gym. There are those that jog with their parkas and ear muffs on. There are even those crazy people that swim in the freezing cold water of the local YMCA. But I tend to go along with the intelligent brown bear: eat as much as you can, kick the children out, bury yourself in a warm cave, and sleep until spring. All I need is a fireplace, a bottle of red wine, my dog to keep my feet warm and a great book and winter can keep on keeping on.
But, just as I start getting very comfortable being a slug – just as the term “complacent” becomes my mantra, nature steps in and kicks me out of my reverie. After a long bout of very short, dark and dreary days, dull grey skies and bad movies on the Lifetime channel, something magical happens. The sky starts dumping snow. Lots and lots of beautiful, shining, pristine white snow. Snow perfect for sledding, building snowmen, skiing, building snow forts, and hiking with the dogs. It beckons for us to don our colorful hats, scarves and mittens and come out and play. It magically covers the grey and brightens up the landscape. It coats the pine trees like powdered sugar and makes the hills and slopes look like a whipped cream delight. It gets neighbors out helping each other shovel, happy to catch up.
So even though we may return to our zombie like trances and will have to wear bronzer so we won’t look like Robert Patterson, for now, the snow is calling. It’s time to get outside and laugh and play and burn some calories….because old man winter isn’t quite finished with the dreariness yet.