Waiting on the weather in Wisconsin is a full-time commitment

Oh, the weather outside is frightful, at least it was on Oct. 16 when I was helping a friend celebrate her birthday. We had taken a drive from Eau Claire to Durand, and the sun was shining and all was right with the world.

We went to Jean Accola’s art gallery to take in one last look at her fine art before she closes the gallery and moves with her husband, Yata, to sort-of retire in northern Wisconsin. Retirement has a vague definition for artists and musicians, as there is generally no defining time when they actually quit doing what they’ve spent a lifetime doing.

Jean was the very first artist to show her collection at the WOWSPACE. I still remember how excited I was that our newly formed group, in our little village, was able to bring in a known talent to do a show. It ended on Mother’s Day, and Yata brought his guitar and gave a concert as a thank you for sponsoring the show. Yata returned a couple of years ago to do one of the Summer Concert in the Art Park shows. There was so much to catch up on and so much to see that the time went by rather quickly.

As we were about to head out the door, the wind started howling and the sleet was pinging against the window panes. We decided to linger a bit longer and wait out the storm. By the time we left, there was an actual accumulation of snow on the sidewalk.

According to the weather app on my phone, we had waited out the worst of it, but in my humble opinion, those apps and I don’t always agree on much. My friend drove along at a steady pace, confident that her new car with four-wheel drive could handle anything Mother Nature threw in our way. I was less confident in the passenger seat. The road was wet and the snow had turned back to rain and the fog in the distance didn’t seem all that distant to me.

When we arrived back in Eau Claire, the fish fry and Bloody Mary calmed my nerves more than the sun pushing its way back into the day.

I can tell myself that this is life in the Midwest, but the first snow encounter of the season makes me reevaluate why I live here, knowing what is coming next. I was perfectly happy the year we didn’t really have snow until after Christmas, even though it bothered my hunting friend considerably.

I’d like to say I’m ready for the snow season, but I’d be lying. The deck chairs have been stacked in the garage, and I’m still contemplating what kinds of covers to invest in this year. Who am I kidding? The same old ill-fitting tarps will get bungee corded in a last-ditch effort to protect both the table and the gas grill that never got used this summer.

While everyone else will probably make good realistic New Year’s resolutions, I know I’ll be hoping to just enjoy each season during the season it is happening.