If every belle gets her day, where is mine?
Shana Adkisson, Norman Transcript
Feb. 20, 2010
Ever get the feeling someone, or some-thing, is out to get you?
I have that feeling. And as a result I've officially taken Mother Nature off my Christmas card list. And if I ever see her face at the grocery store I will not be polite. Yes, if I ever meet Mother Nature shopping for frozen corn I'll give her the worst stink eye she's ever seen. Guaranteed.
It started at Christmas. I wrote about that a few months ago. Where I was trapped alone at home on Christmas Eve with a frozen pizza while my husband was stranded in a blizzard. I got over that pretty quickly because I have a birthday at the end of January. I figured since I endured such heartache at Christmas that surely my birthday would go off without a hitch.
Guess what happened? It snowed on my birthday, too. The days prior to my birthday the weatherman kept saying it was going to be a doozy of a storm. And all that week I kept hoping the weatherman had gotten it wrong this time. But he hadn't So I was stuck at home on yet another day that was supposed to be filled with excitement and presents. At least this time I had a husband. But there were no romantic dinners at fancy restaurants. We had a couple of frozen pizzas instead. I'm starting to see a pattern here.
There was no big fanfare from friends and family, either. I don't blame them. They were too busy shoveling, cussing yet another snowstorm and trying to stay warm. The street outside my house was so ice-packed that the mailman was unable to deliver mail for a few days. Which meant no birthday wishes in the form of pretty Hallmark cards.
I know I shouldn't be surprised. I've said a thousand times that it always snows on or around my birthday. Last year it was a few days before I turned older that the white stuff fell from the sky. The year before I can't be certain, but it does seem as if the storm held off until after my big day.
So it snowed on my birthday. I got mad, but eventually got over it. I was ready to wipe the slate clean. Call a truce with Mother Nature. Toss it up to one of those flukes in life. Because seriously, how could Mother Earth have anything against me? I recycle. I love trees, too.
Then she went there. She messed with my Valentine's Day.
Earlier in the month I gave the Mister an out Let's just go out to eat for Valentine's Day and exchange a nice card, I told him. We are trying to save money so it seemed like a good plan to him, too. The night before Feb. 14 we decided to go out to breakfast as our romantic gesture toward one another, because nothing spells out love like eggs over easy. I went to bed that night with visions of hashbrowns, cream gravy and biscuits floating in my head. When daybreak came, my dream got scrambled. I awoke to my husband standing in the living room staring out the back door exclaiming that it was snowing. Mother Nature hit again. For the third time.
It was then, in my pajamas, that I forgot my sausage dreams. Instead, I raised my fist in the air and declared my hatred for winter.
So we stayed home. Waited for the snow to melt and this time ordered a couple of pizzas. No frozen ones this time because, after all, it was the day of love.
I still hold my grudge. I've heard that all things happen in threes, so I should be good for awhile. If it snows in April, on my wedding anniversary, I'm going to assume that Mother Nature has no heart.
Posted on Mon, April 19, 2010
by Jennifer Gilliland