During my childhood, children would have already been outside, sledding, skating, building snowmen, having snowball fights, however painful with wet snow, and squealing with joy and occasional pain from injury
The silence of the falling, sticky snow is shattered by limbs creaking, crashing in the woods with a loud thud, a collective sigh of nature burdened by the heavy, pristine white blanket. The trees look like white giants with droopy arms dragging the ground.
It is the first snow of winter and of 2022, eight inches accumulation so far, and still falling hard. The hawkish wind is blowing it sometimes sideways, drifting in sudden gusts a few inches that fail to remove any significant amount of snow, already stuck like glue to the ground and on all horizontal surfaces no matter how small.
Yesterday it was so warm that we wore short sleeves and ran the air conditioner briefly. I am now dressed like storybook Nanook of the North, in heavy wool sweater, thankful for the cozy heat from the twenty-first century’s furnace.
I am no longer freezing in flannel pajamas, wool pants, sweater, coat, gloves, and boots inside as I did during the communist regime when steamed heat, hot water, and electric or gas heaters were things only the loyal party members enjoyed on a constant basis in wintertime. So much for my white privilege.
The windchill is at 22 degrees Fahrenheit and I am praying that electricity will stay on, as our Marxist politicians in Washington, D.C. have been pushing their green globalist agenda with reliance on erratic “green” energy from wind and solar. Right now, the wind is blowing but there is no sun. Fossil fuels and wood are what people can rely on dependably. I hope there is enough stored electricity with Dominion Power and the falling trees do not knock down any powerlines.
We are cutting down trees at alarming rates to make shipping boxes for an economy that has been forced from brick-and-mortar stores to home delivery due to the flu fearmongering broadcast non-stop on mainstream media, frightening people inside their homes for almost two years now. Hiding and cowering in fear has turned the American population into voluntary prisoners inside their own homes.
The roads in our neighborhood are impassable and nobody has come out yet to shovel their driveways, nor are there any road plows in sight to clear the roads. The schools closed yesterday, and people wondered if it was wise to do so after two years of students learning nothing at home except how to play new online games, but people realize today with a sigh of relief that meteorologists were right this time. The popular saying, even broken clocks are right once a day, fits this weather forecast.
During my childhood, children would have already been outside, sledding, skating, building snowmen, having snowball fights, however painful with wet snow, and squealing with joy and occasional pain from injury. By the end of the day, when the streetlights came on, and they went home reluctantly, their clothes were wet and frozen stiff on their bodies. The children of this current generation are snug inside, staring at a blue screen all day, getting their exercise surfing the television channels or their electronic devices, still dressed in their pajamas. They are weak and pampered and would be unable to survive the elements outside for any length of time
Dr. Ileana Johnson Paugh, Ileana Writes is a freelance writer, author, radio commentator, and speaker. Her books, “Echoes of Communism”, “Liberty on Life Support” and “U.N. Agenda 21: Environmental Piracy,” “Communism 2.0: 25 Years Later” are available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle.
