A fine snow-burning fog hung over the city last night and I awoke to find those monstrous snowdrifts had mostly melted away.
That is always a fine feeling. I have lived my life up here in Canada – and my childhood in Northern Ontario, deep in the heart of winter-country. A lot of folks will tell you that the sight of snow is a wonderful experience – but snow got old for me a very long time ago.
It is important for a writer and a human being to do their utmost to ward off all forms of negativity. You should welcome each new experience as just another facet of that big fat wonderful diamond that some folks call life. There is no need to take a black marker to any of those intricate unique facets.
Some days the sun is shining and some days it rains – no sense moaning about it.
Leave that to the drama-llamas.
You know those folks who walk into a room with a complaint on their lips and a frown permanently eroded into the corners of their mouth. Those folks whose nose turns down as if God had wedged a chunk of ripe manure up both of their nostrils and told them – “There, take a good long sniff.”
Folks like that grow as old as snow for me – but I do my level best to remind myself that these sorts of people are nothing more than one more shard of experience that I must do my level best to accept and observe.
We writers are watchers.
We have to be. It’s part of our business.
The next time it starts to snow again I want all of you folks out there reading this blog to do me a big favor and try to put on a grin. Tell a joke if you want to – or a pun if you have to. Whatever it takes to giggle your way through one more damn snowstorm.
Like the man said…
yours in storytelling,