Between the months of November and April, Upper Midwesterners fall into one of two camps -- we either like winter or we hate it. These early season, snow-packed days are filled with conversation that distinguishes which line we'll stand in when we register for camp membership.
Camp Rosy Cheeks is inhabited by those who love to be outdoors doing things, especially things that involve snow and/or ice. There are skiers (both cross-country and downhill), snow shoe enthusiasts, ice skaters, hockey players, horseback riders, snow fort builders, ice sculpture artists, sledders, ice fishing zealots, and the list goes on. Even the motorized set has organized to maximize their enjoyment of the winter's snow -- snow mobile traffic signs dot the ditches along many state highways and county roads.
Camp Rosy Cheekers look askance at any notion that life would slow down for the mere lack of a warm day. They wait all year to get out into nature, into the hushed cover and muffled sounds of a snowy day. Animal lovers delight in seeing our fellow creatures sustain themselves happily, and without summer's green to camouflage their movements, our furry and feathered friends can be observed searching for food and playing together against nature's white mat.
Camp Cuddle Up is where the indoor winter people gather. Inhabitants of Camp Cuddle Up prefer to stay out of the cold as much as possible, but aren't ready to go so far as to move to a warmer climate. They figure cold and snow is a fair trade for spring and autumn. They love to look out their windows at the snowy beauty draping their views – crystal icicles and sequined snow clinging to branches and bushes, geometric tracks of bunnies and deer, the “smoke” of warm air escaping from chimneys, and the crunch of snow beneath tires on a cold, sunny January day.
Activities at Camp Cuddle Up include reading, snuggling with a pet/offspring/spouse, quilting, nesting, reading, baking, quilting, knitting, making paper, reading, quilting, and reading. And looking out the window. As opposed to snow suits, Cuddle Uppers wear indoor fleece, oftentimes fleece that has been altered with fabric to look less like fleece and more like clothes. Some just stay in their jammies when they're inside.
Believe it or not, this system is totally free from political fallout. There is no implication of evildoing, regardless which of these two factions one aligns oneself with, and I have yet to hear anyone be criticized from the other camp for their preferences. It's so refreshing! No one is blaming America for having winter and not doing anything about it, or calling someone a racist because they like to play in the snow. Rosy Cheekers are as apt to enjoy a blazing fire on a cold winter's night as a Cuddle Upper will enjoy a day of snowman building with the kids or grandkids. These aren't warring camps.
I should probably interview a member of Camp Rosy Cheeks, just to be fair. I am the head counselor at Camp Cuddle Up. Winter. Ick. But I mean that in a good way. I don't really like to be cold, but once I get bundled up, it isn't too bad. Some days I get cold and can't warm up on my own, so I run a hot bath in our old cast iron clawfoot tub. The cast iron keeps the water warm for a long time, and I can soak until I am pink and warm. Of course, then I pass the suffering on to my skin, and if I don't slather myself in lotions, it gets all itchy and dry. Once I apply the lotions, wouldn't you know, they make my skin cool, and I get cold again. But, it's winter. Whatcha gonna do about it? Some people love it, and they're entitled to their fun, too.
It is beautiful, but I wouldn't mind if it only lasted a month. I'd be happy if it did nothing but snow for that duration, with temps hovering around zero. That's a huge concession on my part. I'm fine with temps down to 25° Fahrenheit, as long as the sun is out and the wind isn't blowing. If the thermometer gets any lower, and with any breeze at all, I find it best to stay in my own camp and commiserate with my homies there. I don't really want to debate the obvious: it is cold. Either you like it or you don't, but cold is cold.
Yet, where would I be without the cold weather to naturally round out my life? In “my” weather, I happily flit to and fro, awhirl in activity and complaining about there not being enough time. I don't fro as much when it's cold, and flitting is a seasonal term. I cuddle up -- this is when I spend real time with friends and loved ones. I establish almost all of my close ties with people in the coldest part of the year. It's a time to lavish attention on each other, accidentally exploring how we fit into each other's lives, and consequentially strengthening the bridges that connect us.
Last year I had a couple of coffees at my house, one in January and one in February. There was third, a neighborhood morning set aside to welcome a new neighbor. It was great to get together with some of the people we usually see outside. The other two coffees were with women I have always wanted to have coffee with, but never had the opportunity. There are literally hundreds of women like that in my Iowa town, women I just want to spend a little more time with. That's what winter is for.
I don't know if I invited Cuddle Uppers or Rosy Cheekers to my coffee times, but it didn't really matter. These women all wanted to spend time connecting with other women, too, and no one cared who else was invited. None of them questioned, “Who else is coming?”, because whomever they met here would warm their winter. It's cliqueless -- independent women don't ask who else is coming. Some of them even bring along a friend of their own to add to the mix. It's winter! That's what we do!
Sometimes an afternoon with a new friend is called for. Hubba and I spend one every now and then with some of our younger friends. We've adopted a couple of transplants from Oklahoma, who left both sets of grandparents behind. They only have one aunt, so Hubba I do a hybrid aunt/uncle/really young grandparents with them. It's my kind of winter blast -- we fake them into thinking we're cool, then we let them do whatever they want. When we send them back to their parents, all four of us are looking forward to another mutual winter reprieve. The transplanted Oklahoman parents need it, too, now that the real family is far away. I think they call that a win-win, or in this case, a win-win-win.
I'm planning a new set of winter gatherings for 2006. I will host some old-fashioned Midwestern think tanks, huddling with women of all ages, maybe in transition, who own their lives and are reluctant to concede control of them to other forces. These are women who bring value to their families and community, and who know it, and who are willing to flaunt it. It's exciting to be on the cusp of a new adventure, perhaps addressing a nagging itch beyond the reach of a satisfying scratch. Together we can search out the source of the itch, and discuss its treatment. Maybe it needs a cooling lotion, a deep massage, or a devoted kiss. We'll think-tank about it.
I will fit the think tanks in among a few coffee coffees, the chat-a-thons that heated my home last year. They are the best after the busy Christmas season, after the New Year relaxes us into looking for each other. Planning them brings peace to the season of peace, joy to the season of joy, rebirth to the season of birth. It's the Happy of a Happy New Year.
Ah, winter. Personally, I hate it, but I'm so ecstatically glad it's here.
Copyright © December 2005 Kari E.O. Burns
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