I am not Winter’s biggest fan. I avoid snow sports unless it involves an inner tube or a sled. I prefer a hot coffee and cocktail by the fireplace to snowboarding and snowball fights. I can’t remember a time when I looked forward to snow. Sure, I gleefully accepted the chance to stay home when my high school cancelled classes due to snow or freezing temperatures. I’ll even crochet 50 scarves with the hope of wearing one, yet still be displeased when it’s cold enough to wear one. Again, not Winter’s biggest fan.
My earliest memory of winter and snow displeasure is at the age of 5. My parents, both sets, were all skiers. Mom rocked her Farrah Fawcett hair and tight ski outfits in bold pinks. Dad enjoyed a great winter themed sweater that only equaled the awesome ‘stache he so proudly sported. The first time I can recall took place at Mt. Hood. Padded in my puffy, red snowsuit, decked out in knit accessories, I clearly see my 5 year old self holding onto the rope-tow and slowly being pulled face first into the snow. And, because they tell you to hold tight, I refused to let go. I got halfway up the “bunny hill” before anyone decided to pry my tiny, mitten encased hands off the tow. Winter and I started off rather bumpy, to say the least.
I can now say that living in Austria has changed a little of that. With the gift of Apfelpunsch and Glühwein, I’ve found myself willing to dress in layers and wander the city. Add in the beauty of blue skies, historic buildings & Christmas Markets and I’m ready for a trek through the narrow streets. It’s been one of the most rewarding changes in this adventure, thus far. Yesterday I made the short trip to Wien Mitte for a few things at Interspar. Refusing to let the 21 degree weather stop me, I rolled my little black buggy full of goods through Stadtpark towards the Ringstraße. I received my reward instantly. The frozen Wien (river) running through Stadtpark stopped me for a good 5 minutes just enjoying the colors of dusk reflecting in the ice.