Where, oh where has our winter gone?

In December, when we had such an influx of snow, I became quite certain that THIS year, at last, we would have a REAL winter. One like I remember growing up in.

As a child my four brothers and I would build intricate tunnels and forts through the heavy down load of snow we got. There are stories of sleds and teeth being knocked out by my second oldest brother, although my mom insists that he remembers the story and not the event. It seems he was just four. Then there was the year my younger brother had the fort collapse on him. I remember running into the house to tell my mother, who was on the phone, what had happened. I remember the sheer panic I felt in my heart. What if we didn't get him out in time?? Of course we did, and he lived to be tortured throughout this growing up years by his older sister. Just ask him, he'll tell you. There was the year my older brother was given a snowmobile by my Uncle. I'm sure Uncle Jim thought it would never run. Wrong. It ran with a bit of tweaking and for about 2 days we used it non stop. I'm not sure how the demise of the snowmobile came about, but I have a stinking suspicion my dad, aka Man Who Hates Snowmobiles, might have had something to do with it.

In the neighbors field they dug a pond to drain the swamp for better yields, I suppose. At night my older brothers would go to the pond, dig a hole with the ice fishing auger and resurface the ice so we could go and skate on fresh ice in the morning. I learned to skate by trial and error. For some reason one of my brothers thought it would be a good idea to jump metal barrels while on iceskates. I'm not sure why, but it made for interesting entertainment.

When we were younger, my dad would take the entire family ice fishing. It never failed that one of the five kids would put a boot into a hole. In fact, there's video of it somewhere. My oldest brother LIVES to ice fish. A product of his youth I suppose. Myself, I never understood the need to freeze that much. As a college student it seemed fun, but there was alcohol and snowmobiles involved and not a lot of fishing.

In my early teens my dad became very interested in cross country skiing. I am sure the Olympics drove his interest. That and perhaps the Birkenbiener. The Birkenbiener is a cross country race held in Northern Wisconsin, that runs about 30 miles. They also hold the Kortelopet for the faint of heart. It's a mere 12 miles. My two oldest brothers and one sister-in-law have done the full race on an occasion or two. My dad has done the Kortelopet at least three times and I did it once. That was enough to know that 12 miles on cross country skiis was 7 miles more than I was willing to go. I made it though and still own the medal to prove it.

In my college years we were involved in a school wide snow fest. My part was being involved in the class snow sculpture. We never won anything, but it was a blast. Again, that might have had something to do with alcohol, not sure.

Since my children were born I have dug a tunnel or two and made some forts, but it was from snow that my husband staked up into a hill. We had fun sledding a time or two also. One day I sent my youngest down the hill on a tube, realizing in horror later that she was headed for a barbed wire fence at the bottom of the hill. Serious bad case of judgement. I screamed at her sister to stop her, and she took the blow, sending the young one flying. Her snowsuit stuck to the barbed wire fence, and there she hung. Ah yea. SOMEONE was watching over us THAT day.

In the last four years our winters have frankly left me with a desire to move farther north. At most we get maybe 6 inches at a time. We had our fun this year in December, but since then? Nothing. Nada. It's 50 frickin degrees out today and it's still January. I just don't get it. I miss the snow...