Nearly three years ago Hubs' job brought me to New Mexico. It's the place with little rain, lots of sunshine, and warm days. I thought I was living in the Land of Enchantment. Turns out I'm in Palin's Alaska.
Yesterday's wind chills were below freezing and we have another layer of snow, now melting. In the past week I have prepped the pantry for power outages (lots of peanut butter and bread,) watched the roads shimmer with black ice, and purchased a snow shovel.
It's not that I am afraid to shovel or even that I don't want to do the work. The truth is that if the need arises for me to use a snow shovel, it means it is COLD. I don't like cold.
We Southern girls (at least some of us) don't shy away from hard work. We may appear to be dainty and delicate. The truth is we are tough, independent and not afraid to to get dirty. And no, unlike all those swooning characters in the movies, we don't faint. Well, except for that one sweet aunt in every Southerner's family who more than likely suffers from a girdle that's too tight.
So when the time came to clear the driveway, I layered up in my thermals, sweatshirt, boots and parka. If you had told me when I was a child in Southwest Georgia that I would one day own a parka, I would have crinkled up my face at you in confusion. I always thought only skiers wore parkas. Skiers are athletic and, goodness knows, I'm not athletic.
I shoveled. I cracked and removed ice. Daughter looked on from the warmth inside as she prepared to go to school. With all the snow and ice gone, we managed to make it to car line without skidding and slipping down the drive and looking like folks who "aren't from around here."
The next time the driveway needed shoveling, Daughter donned her own parka. She shoveled, scraped and scooped until the driveway was safe again. Just like a good Southern girl, tough and independent.
And, yes, she volunteered.
Like her Southern mama, she came inside for a cup of hot chocolate, topped with Redi Whip and sprinkles.
Hey, we're tough, but we're not stupid.
"We are, like our beloved garden greens, sturdy, strong, and best when tested by the elements and fully seasoned. I never bought the notion of the "steel magnolia" because it's a short-lived, silly blossom that can't make it through a simple Women's Missionary Union meeting without shedding its powdery guts onto the mahogany sideboard."
Celia Rivenbark- We're Just Like You, Only Prettier