This is, I am assured by lesser people, a little irrational. But I am afraid of snow. Not just a little bit scared. Totally scared stiff, wouldn’t dream of going out in it and convinced everyone I know will die in it, kind of scared. Scared witless.
Don’t bother telling me that snow is safe and fun and snuggly etc, etc. I have heard it all before. You see any sane person will tell you that snow and ice are skiddy. That they make driving treacherous and walking a fate worse than death. Snow makes your fingers blue. It makes everything wet, and it blinds you should you be unlucky enough to get a snowball in your eye. I truly can’t bear it.
The thing about snow is this: even before you open your eyes in the morning you know that something terrible has happened overnight. The light in your bedroom is different, the noise of the cars slushing by, unfamiliar. You lie in bed and worry. You worry that your Dad has chosen today to drive to London and that he will get stuck in a snowdrift on the M40 and never be seen again. You worry that your husband will slip on the path, bang his head and meet a sudden, icy cold death. You worry that fate will have it that you will have to get in your car and drive somewhere. Probably into that lovely little terrace with the pillar-box red door like you did the Christmas before last. You worry that the gorgeous little boy next door will greet you with a rock wrapped in snow and maim you for life. And mostly you worry about falling over.
There is no comfort in the cosiness of the house, because when you are the only one it, it is a place to be endured until your family are home and safe. Does this sound nuts? Am I crackers? One day Dad had to drive me somewhere and a half hour dive took three, by which time I was nearly sick. I get hysterical when snow is forecast and have no idea how I will manage to get Finley to nursery if there is even the merest hint of frost on the ground.
This winter is predicted to be the worst in a long time and I really don’t know how I’m going to deal with it. I want Finley to love it. To roll about and build three tier snowman. I want him to look out the window and see only the sheer magic of a snowy blanket on the ground.
But I have no idea how I am going to make that happen, when I literally cannot go over the doorstep if it snows.
Do I need therapy?