It’s always nice to have snow for Christmas. Living in Mississippi means waiting ten to thirty years for such an event. So this year, we decided to stack the deck and headed to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Mother Nature did not disappoint.
The snow started falling on Christmas morning and hasn’t let up since. And as the trees get heavier and heavier and the railings collect inch after inch, I can’t escape the question: Are we gonna be able to get out of here?? We’re not scheduled to leave for another two days. The forecast is calling for steady snowfall between now and then. And we’re in a cabin at the top of a very windy, very steep hill in the middle of the Smokey Mountains. What’s more – we’re here with the entire family.
Granted, we came prepared. Between us we have three bottles of champagne, six bottles of wine, and several fifths of liquor. Well. We had three bottles of champagne, six bottles of wine, and several fifths of liquor. The fact is, being snow-bound in a cabin in the middle of the mountains with grandparents, parents, siblings, and several small human beings requires copious amounts of alcohol. And we’re running out. Fast.
Tensions have waxed and waned with one member of the family or another escaping to an upstairs bedroom for a little “alone time.” Games have been played with the inevitable temper tantrum from human beings too big for such behavior. And movies have been watched by people who think the rest of the viewing audience needs a play-by-play description of what’s happening on the screen.
Still, the giant flakes of snow falling on the evergreens is beautiful. And I was willing to lock myself into a cabin with way too many people to experience it. That is, until I received an email yesterday from a friend in Oxford. It seems the miracle has finally happened and Mississippi has had its first white Christmas since 1989.
It figures. And while I know the dusting of snow that Mississippi is experiencing is nothing like the winter wonderland going on in Tennessee, a small part of me wishes I were there instead of here – eating too much, hiding in corner rooms, and biting my tongue. I suppose the lesson learned here runs along the lines of “patience is a virtue” or “good things come to those who wait.” It’s a lesson I’ll happily bring back to Mississippi. Assuming I can make it down that hill.