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I Love Maine Winters - Part II
by Lill Hawkins
In a previous article, I might have given the impression that I hate
Maine winters more than anything. This is definitely not the case,
although I must admit that I think they should come with a "best if
used by date" sometime in March, and it should be strictly enforced.
If we knew that the snow was going to be only up to our knees, the
wind was going to be merely a mild gale and the ice was going to be
off at least the deepest part of the lake by, say, March 21st, I'm sure we
could all cope a little better with having our "ayuhs" frozen off every
time we go outside.
If, for instance, I could write in red on the calendar on March 21st, First
Crocus, or Golf Date with Freddie, I'd be very happy. (And very
surprised. I don't play golf. And I don't know anyone named Freddie,
come to think of it.)
Well, anyway, it would be really nice to be able to put some spring
things on the calendar before June, but it doesn't usually work out that
way in Maine. April may be the cruelest month, but May is Blackfly
Season and please note the capital letters.
So we have to crowd all the spring things into the first part of June,
because if we didn't, they'd run into summer, which is so short in
Maine, that we can't fit all the summer things into it without running
smack dab into Autumn. Since our first frost is usually sometime in
August, this results in a good amount of overlap, as you can imagine.
That's why you often see people out on their decks, hunched over a
grill in a snowstorm, wearing shorts, a winter jacket and a hat with
earflaps, with a beer in one hand and a cup of hot coffee in the other.
(Grilling tip: If you find flipping your burgers difficult, omit the coffee
and substitute hot buttered rum for the beer, thus freeing up a hand.)
In order to deal with this Seasonal Afflictive Disorder, Mainers have
become adept at denial. Just today, I was making the bed and got all
chuffed up, because I realized it's time to put on the summer quilt.
Summer. Quilt. Two words that don't even belong in the same
sentence. That's so sad. Worse, I didn't see anything odd about the fact
that my son had to stop digging the garden, because, six inches down,
the soil is frozen. This is in April on a day when it's 78 degrees out.
This is a cruel joke that Maine pulls on us at least once every spring,
when it throws us a really hot day or two, just so we'll complain, so
the weather gods can feel justified in giving us another six weeks of
winter weather afterwards. (I always think that the hot April days that
bring out the beautiful apple blossoms early are a nice contrast to the
April blizzards that freeze them solid.)
No, in spite of what I've said about Maine winters, I don't want to give
the wrong impression and make you think they're at the top of my
hate list. I can take Maine winters when you balance them out against
the many good things that Maine has to offer.
Maine has nice, low key people who hardly ever shoot anyone over
traffic incidents. There are town offices in people's trailer homes
where you can register your car and get laundry tips or even free
kittens at the same time.
Several years ago, I scored a cunnin' little stripey kitten, learned how
to remove hard water stains, got some advice on soothing the colicky
baby I had with me and registered a minivan, and the town clerk even
held the baby while I signed the papers. Try to get that kind of service
in a city. (I miss it now that we've moved to a town with a real town
office.)
There are Annual Town Meetings where 34 people decide what to do
with the town budget of $600,000 and the other 166 registered voters,
who didn't vote, show up to gripe about it at every Selectman's
meeting for the rest of the year. (Who needs cable when you have
Selectman's Meetings?)
No, I want to make it clear that, while I dislike winter in Maine, I don't
hate it with a vengeance. Long, cold and snowy though it may be,
there are worst places to be in winter.
One of them is Washington State, where I learned that they tell you
about the rain, but no one mentions the wind until you've moved
there.
Then there's upstate NY, where it's so cold and dry that the snow
squeaks underfoot and trees explode every once in awhile from ice
trapped inside them.
While we have the occasional exploding tree in Maine, our snow
hardly ever squeaks and you don't have to worry about rain in the
winter here. Nope, just snow and cold and wind and ... Have I ever
mentioned how much I hate winter in Maine?
About the author:
Lill Hawkins lives in Maine and writes about family life, home
education and being a WAHM at Hawk Hills Acres Blog. Get the
News From Hawkhill Acres: A mostly humorous look at home
schooling, writing and being a WAHM, whose mantra is "I'm a willow;
I can bend."
by Lill Hawkins
In a previous article, I might have given the impression that I hate
Maine winters more than anything. This is definitely not the case,
although I must admit that I think they should come with a "best if
used by date" sometime in March, and it should be strictly enforced.
If we knew that the snow was going to be only up to our knees, the
wind was going to be merely a mild gale and the ice was going to be
off at least the deepest part of the lake by, say, March 21st, I'm sure we
could all cope a little better with having our "ayuhs" frozen off every
time we go outside.
If, for instance, I could write in red on the calendar on March 21st, First
Crocus, or Golf Date with Freddie, I'd be very happy. (And very
surprised. I don't play golf. And I don't know anyone named Freddie,
come to think of it.)
Well, anyway, it would be really nice to be able to put some spring
things on the calendar before June, but it doesn't usually work out that
way in Maine. April may be the cruelest month, but May is Blackfly
Season and please note the capital letters.
So we have to crowd all the spring things into the first part of June,
because if we didn't, they'd run into summer, which is so short in
Maine, that we can't fit all the summer things into it without running
smack dab into Autumn. Since our first frost is usually sometime in
August, this results in a good amount of overlap, as you can imagine.
That's why you often see people out on their decks, hunched over a
grill in a snowstorm, wearing shorts, a winter jacket and a hat with
earflaps, with a beer in one hand and a cup of hot coffee in the other.
(Grilling tip: If you find flipping your burgers difficult, omit the coffee
and substitute hot buttered rum for the beer, thus freeing up a hand.)
In order to deal with this Seasonal Afflictive Disorder, Mainers have
become adept at denial. Just today, I was making the bed and got all
chuffed up, because I realized it's time to put on the summer quilt.
Summer. Quilt. Two words that don't even belong in the same
sentence. That's so sad. Worse, I didn't see anything odd about the fact
that my son had to stop digging the garden, because, six inches down,
the soil is frozen. This is in April on a day when it's 78 degrees out.
This is a cruel joke that Maine pulls on us at least once every spring,
when it throws us a really hot day or two, just so we'll complain, so
the weather gods can feel justified in giving us another six weeks of
winter weather afterwards. (I always think that the hot April days that
bring out the beautiful apple blossoms early are a nice contrast to the
April blizzards that freeze them solid.)
No, in spite of what I've said about Maine winters, I don't want to give
the wrong impression and make you think they're at the top of my
hate list. I can take Maine winters when you balance them out against
the many good things that Maine has to offer.
Maine has nice, low key people who hardly ever shoot anyone over
traffic incidents. There are town offices in people's trailer homes
where you can register your car and get laundry tips or even free
kittens at the same time.
Several years ago, I scored a cunnin' little stripey kitten, learned how
to remove hard water stains, got some advice on soothing the colicky
baby I had with me and registered a minivan, and the town clerk even
held the baby while I signed the papers. Try to get that kind of service
in a city. (I miss it now that we've moved to a town with a real town
office.)
There are Annual Town Meetings where 34 people decide what to do
with the town budget of $600,000 and the other 166 registered voters,
who didn't vote, show up to gripe about it at every Selectman's
meeting for the rest of the year. (Who needs cable when you have
Selectman's Meetings?)
No, I want to make it clear that, while I dislike winter in Maine, I don't
hate it with a vengeance. Long, cold and snowy though it may be,
there are worst places to be in winter.
One of them is Washington State, where I learned that they tell you
about the rain, but no one mentions the wind until you've moved
there.
Then there's upstate NY, where it's so cold and dry that the snow
squeaks underfoot and trees explode every once in awhile from ice
trapped inside them.
While we have the occasional exploding tree in Maine, our snow
hardly ever squeaks and you don't have to worry about rain in the
winter here. Nope, just snow and cold and wind and ... Have I ever
mentioned how much I hate winter in Maine?
About the author:
Lill Hawkins lives in Maine and writes about family life, home
education and being a WAHM at Hawk Hills Acres Blog. Get the
News From Hawkhill Acres: A mostly humorous look at home
schooling, writing and being a WAHM, whose mantra is "I'm a willow;
I can bend."
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