Carol Jane Remsburg
Last Stand of Winter
Winter's last hurrah showed up yesterday afternoon with giant flakes made to dance by the wind. By evening it was just cold enough for those many flakes to gain purchase on the ground and begin to encroach upon the asphalt. Driving home amid the slush wasn't a trial yet the spiraling flakes in front of the windshield were enough to dazzle the eye and distract.
The weather forecasters called for 3-6 inches of the heavy white stuff. I actually thought we'd end up with more than the 3 ˝ inches we ultimately got; however, the road crews were determined and kept the roads clear so there was only an hour school delay. I wasn't sure how it was to go, so I took one of my 'optional' days off from work to be sure.
Then what would or should have been a quiet day suddenly became a busy one. After delivering my daughter to school, I took a drive to view a house that had piqued hubby's interest for some time. It was nearly twenty minutes away in another small town, a bit larger than the one we currently reside in. This particular home is older than ours, but larger. It sits on a quiet side street rather than an evacuation route (old highway) than we live now. This house is really in town as opposed to the one we now live in with more of a rural setting. Hubby is concerned about the growth spurt in building around us and is concerned as to what that might bring.
Suddenly, those quiet pastoral views that have been with us for nearly twenty years are being filled by new houses and new neighbors. There is the worry that the corn field/soybean field beside the house will be sold into lots and just who will fill it and with what?
The snowfall from last night was lovely and covered all the barren waste that is the landscape of winter. The snow wasn't too deep. It was just enough to provide a sprinkling of frigid beauty for a day or two before it began to melt. The freshening of the snow offering an opportunity for a new look, a different perspective.
So I did take that drive and find the house that sits empty waiting for a family to make it a home. It sits on a tiny, but immaculate lot. Compared with the grass we currently have to cut during the warmer months, this could be cut with clippers, or at the very most, a regular push mower in less than 30 minutes. Everything is nice and tidy and the house is tall, actually oversized for such a small lot.
Built in 1910, this house was built for a family. From the layout provided, the rooms are enormous compared to those in homes built today. There are nine foot ceilings, a basement, AND a walk up attic, three bedrooms, two full bathrooms, and a half bathroom, with porches both front and back. However it's the downstairs layout that grabs the attention. An expanded kitchen, larger than most, with an extended living room along with a formal dining room. All these rooms are oversized – all to fit a family of three.
I've scheduled a viewing on Sunday. Hubby won't admit it but he's more than intrigued. Daughter 'O Mine swears she'll never leave her current home. And me? Well, like my daughter I'm not one for change, or such a big change with such a financial reach. But we'll go and look. It can't hurt anything.
Sometimes snow brings damage. Sometimes snow brings the essence of beauty. And sometimes snow brings the onset of a new perspective, the opportunity to leave crisp, defined tracks in the snow showing where the future takes you.
I love the old, yet the future beckons. The question remains what the outcome will be.
Somebody hold my hand. The prospect of change scares me too—right up until I do it.