We've been watching the news about the terrible blizzard in the northeast.
The worst blizzard I can recall was the Blizzard of '67 in Chicago. The city was at a standstill. All I remember was that we didn't have school.
I was a little like Hermione Granger. I was afraid my grades would suffer if I stayed away too long, so I fretted more than enjoyed the time off.
From what Greg told me, he was just the opposite. He'd go out at first light, building snow forts, snowmen, and having snow fights. He'd come home only long enough to change into dry clothes and then be off again.
I like to listen to Greg's childhood stories. He led such a colorful life. My daring exploits didn't start until I hit my teens.
Most of my adventures (before marriage) had to do with extra schooling or summer jobs. My parents didn't think art was a good career choice so they refused to send me to art school. I decided if I wanted any kind of art training, I'd have to pay for it myself.
I worked summers and after school to pay for life drawing classes. It was the first time I'd seen a naked man. Back then no one thought to prohibit a then 16 year old girl from those kind of classes. Hand to heart though, I was such a serious student the model could've been Gerard Butler and I would've still concentrated on sinew and bone.
My next challenge was to make enough money to attend the Art Institute of Chicago--but then fate intervened. Greg married me and whisked me away to Texas.
I hated Texas at first. It was so different from what I had known and it looked as if I'd never finish college. But what I thought were obstacles and setbacks were really training grounds for even grander adventures.
My first job was as a veterinary surgical assistant. I absorbed everything I could from a great vet who encouraged me to follow in his footsteps. As much as I loved animals, I knew it wasn't where I wanted to stay. I drifted not knowing what I wanted to do in this outback when my first dog died suddenly. It was the worst day of my young life.
It was Joey who made me go back to college. The cemetery where we buried her was a stone's throw from the university. One day after I'd gone to visit her, I stopped in at the Registrar's office and picked up a catalog. The rest is history.
And then there was the homesteading dream. Back in the day, we had soaked up every issue of Mother Earth News. (I still have all the early issues from the 70s.) It was our shared love of nature that kept us dreaming for a little parcel of land. Over the years it seemed like it would never happen, but hardheadedness and patience has its virtues.
Kismet has played into our life too. At least we don't have blizzards.
Good luck, my northern friends. Hunker down until it's over.
Have you ever found obstacles and hardships to be a blessing in disguise? Maybe it's the way we handle the hard times that decides the final outcome.
What was you're favorite adventure when you were a kid?