Snow

It used to snow here; I remember. When I was a kid, I remember being at my grandparents’ house and walking up the sidewalk to the front porch with walls of snow on either side. Of course, this was from my grandfather “scooping the walk” and allowing the snow to pile up on the sides, but the walls were higher than I was tall, and I have always been tall.

I remember one snow storm where my sister and I were playing in the yard across the street from my grandparents’ (these people didn’t have any children to play in the snow piled in their yard, so my sister and I did the job for them). Anyway, the neighbors had huge juniper bushes on either side of the door, and they were completely hidden under the drifts of snow. My sister and I spent what seems like an entire day excavating the bushes from the snow.

There were always a couple of snow days every year; the plow-trucks simply couldn’t keep up with the snow. There was always plenty of snow for snowmen, and the main color of the landscape was white, not sandy brown.

Once I was in high school, and throughout college and so on, the snow didn’t seem to come any more. Rarely was there even enough snow to worry about brushing it from the car windows before leaving in the morning; let alone “scooping the walk.” But things are different this year; the snow has returned.

This is my first winter in Idaho in a few years, but the snow is definitely back. Of course the accumulation doesn’t seem quite so grand, but I don’t know if this is because there is less snow or I am a grown up. My sister commented on the “scoop truck” (she is 26, “scoop truck” an artifact of our childhood) driving in front of us the other day. My nephew has had a snow day this school year, and it is only January. I have actually shoveled snow twice in the last month or so, and each night when I make my way to the RV from the big house, I have to don boots, rather than my normal slippers.

My favorite part of snow is the sleep that it brings. There is nothing so peaceful as sleeping during a snow storm, and waking up to a world softened by a sweet, sparkling coat of snow. I don’t even know how to describe it, but it is more than quiet; it is what I imagine the peace to sound like.

And, since I am currently sleeping in the RV, a few scant inches away from the metal ceiling, the snowy sleep I have had the last few nights has been divine. The snow falling gently (it is never hard, regardless of how strong the wind blows) on the metal roof, and the clear, plexi-glass vent is the most comforting, peaceful sound I have ever heard.

I am throughly enjoying my time in the trailer right now. I spend my time in the big house until bed time when I make my way out to the RV. I don’t use the heat in the RV, but have an electric blanket. It feels amazing to sleep in the crisp winter air bundled under my electric blanket, on top of a featherbed with the sound of the snow falling so lightly; some nights I am almost tempted to open the vent above my bed and let the snow fall on me. But I don’t; that would somehow ruin it all.

Oh, and tonight, there is a full moon and a crystal clear sky. Have you seen what it looks like when the ground is covered in snow and the moon is lighting the world? It is almost as bright as a slightly cloudy day. It is amazing; something you should certainly see at least once.

Denial is not just a river; it is safety

My lack of posts is not representative of my writing activity. I have been writing too much. Is there such a thing? Well there is for blogs. I have been writing feverishly about Louisiana, New Orleans, and specifically FEMA trailers, but each piece has turned into pages and pages of writing much too long to post on my blog. It is good that I am writing. And the longer pieces will make the transition to book a bit easier, I think. But maybe I need to edit myself better? I don’t know; I am definitely a rambler but that is part of my charm.

Earlier today I ran across an article written by someone at FEMA about FEMA trailers. It was written prior to Hurricane Katrina (in fact it was from May 2000, in response to Kansas Severe Storms and Tornadoes; it was written just like that), and made note of the fact that the trailers were to be “interim” housing, but would remain in use for as long as needed. Don’t interim and as long as needed cancel each other out? Thought so.

The Kansas Severe Storms page also says this: “FEMA’s Disaster Housing Program is a temporary housing program designed to help people with their short-term housing while they work to solve their permanent, long-term needs.” Call me crazy, but doesn’t over two years seem like something different than short-term, and temporary?

So why are people still in trailer homes more than two years after the storm? I am sure that there are many reasons, and I want to address many of them here in the coming days. Even though there are many reasons, I think that they all have one thing in common; the reasons are all rooted in fear.

By staying in the temporary housing FEMA has provided, it is easy to ignore what has happened, well, not so much ignore it, but not digest the enormity of it. It is sort of like the denial stage of the twelve steps. By staying in the trailer, the resident can remain in a state of flux; they don’t have to move on with their life, acknowledging all that has happened. Even if the trailer is in the driveway of someone’s ruined house, they still don’t have to go inside and see the gutted interior. And honestly a lot of the houses look fine from the outside. It is sort of like they are staying in the trailer in the driveway while the house is being fumigated. It is easy to fool yourself into thinking that everything is okay when you are not smacked in the chest by the fact that it is not everyday.

I know; I did this with my grandmother’s death. When I was in Louisiana, I didn’t drive by her house that some other family was living in every day. In this way people don’t really need to acknowledge that their house is ruined, if they don’t sit in the empty dining room staring at the beams where the baby pictures used to be. It is easier to pretend sometimes.

I still have my awful cold, and am sleepy, so forgive me if this post wanders a bit at the end.
Subscribe in a reader