Journal for February 5, 2016:

I was supposed to go and do my first of the month banking and shopping, but by 12 noon we still weren’t plowed out here and there was no way for the wheelchair van to get in.

So tomorrow I’m going.

A little part of me is kind of happy though because I know that these kind of snows are going to get more and more rare.

Here in New Hampshire the University of New Hampshire actually did a very well researched climate change study for our state and showed the outcomes if we did nothing and kept doing what we’re doing which anybody who knows New Hampshire knows probably will happen because they would rather have the entire state collapse then raise revenue to pay bills.

Then the study had a comparison of what things would look like if you Hampshire were too make some efforts to reduce carbon emissions and increase renewable energy and so on.

Of course, I have yet to find a new Hampshire state representative who has actually read the entire document. And sadly, I have met 4 people running for office in the Seacoast area who not only haven’t a clue that it existed but stated that they wouldn’t read it anyway because they don’t believe in global warming.

So today I have to cancel my wheelchair van ride to go do my first of the month banking & shopping because they’re just wasn’t any way for them to get in here the shoveling and plowing hadn’t been done.

And what pile of overdue work am I tackling?

None.

I am just enjoying looking out the patio windows and remembering when a snowstorm like this was exciting because it meant there was no school, and sometimes my dad would end up deciding not to go into work (we lived in Hooksett and he worked and Concord which before the superhighways in the 65 mile an hour speed limits was a pretty long commute).

I feel bad that my granddaughters and my little NEW adorable great niece Abigail will probably never play in the snow like this, and Abigail will be lucky if she ever sees the real life birch tree in our state.

We really did let down our grandchildren and great-grandchildren when we decided as a nation that we were just going to not listen to the scientists, to Al Gore, and to the Farmers Almanac.

As for me, I I’m praying that someday Abigail and the other young ones can at least travel north of Quebec City and be able to see beautifuls puffy snow and pine trees with branches both they’re frosted with the flakes, and here and there a white birch tree or a maple tree.

I don’t know if I’ll still be alive, but I’m glad that today I got to see an old-fashioned winter snow.

I hope that all of you in the family get a chance to put on snow suits and go outside and make snow angels and snowmen and that every one of their homes has at least one carrot and maybe two golf balls they can paint black with a sharpie for eyes. For smiles, I hope they have red play dough, or Twizzlers, or maybe even an old red sock that can be pushed in the head to make a mouth.

I hope the grown ups home today get a chance to just appreciate something we all took for granted growing up, and that those who can – get to go outside and play even if just for a little bit with some young person.
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Today was another storm, and it is due to snow all week. But even now the days are slowly getting longer, and I know that too soon it will be Rain Season. Spring shows up after that, and for such a short time. Then the blazing, killing heat of summer, followed by the longer and longer too warm Autumn.

Out of them all, I think that the Rain Season is my least favorite because it is so hard and so fast and the ground is so often still frozen – that poor plants underneath in the soil don’t even get half of what they should. Meanwhile us Humans above the soil deal with flood after flood, often because we are simply too stupid to use permeable pavement.

There is no favorite season anymore, because summers are too hot, springs are too short, fall is so unseasonably warm and I know it is killing so many of the New Hampshire trees, and the winter is just miserable, except once in a great while when you get to stop and just enjoy an old fashioned snow storm of puffy white gold.

I’m glad I wrote the journal entry on February 5th because it will become the memory for the generations after my grandchildren who will have no idea what snow even looks like except in history e-books. Photos only tell part of the story. In my words a part of New Hampshire, my New Hampshire will remain.

Take care,
Brenda The Writer

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