Passport to Poconos – March is Sweet and Sour

Dear friend,

After living in the Poconos for five years and going through the harsh winter, I’m excited about the snow melting and nature reawakening. However, March is a puzzling month for me. My memories of this month are sweet and sour. It is Father’s Day in Spain and other European countries (as well as Bolivia and Honduras in South America).  This is because March 19 is the Day of St. Joseph, the father of Jesus. It’s also the month when my father passed away, just four days after Father’s day.

My father and I never got along completely: we both had strong personalities. He couldn’t understand that his only daughter was more like him than his sons. In his mind his sons had to have the drive, and the daughter had to be the obedient one. That was the traditional pattern in Spanish families.  It didn’t turn out like that and we fought and fought. I was always the rebel, even though I looked for his support and advice.

His rules were rigid. He never let my mother learn to drive because as he said “you’re going to kill somebody.”

I was so like him but he still couldn’t give me his trust or confidence. When he went through his third heart surgery I knew he wouldn’t make it and I mourned for weeks before the procedure.  My brother was upset with me for unsettling my mother. “But I know he won’t make it,” I kept saying, “I just know.” And that was what happened.

Father’s day was coming and my dad was recovering from surgery. “What should I give him?” I thought, “I know he’s near the end.” I finally got a card where I could express my love for him and all the goodness; what really mattered.

I accepted that he did his best and I appreciated what he did for us. I gave him the card, my last gift, but he was too weak to read it.  So I read it to him. His response was “I’m so happy. When you were little you were always a rebel and you´ve grown up to become a flower that blossomed.”

Those were his last words to me and I will cherish them all my life. I know he would be so proud of what I´ve become and where I found my place.  Finally we are at peace. I miss him and feel his support and protection every day. So March means something different to everyone because it is the death of winter and the birth of spring. We all carry memories from this transitional moment in the year. For me it will always be for you, papi.

Christina´s radio show with a Latin flavor is every Sunday morning at 8:00 AM on Pocono 96.7. Tu Voz con Christina. Email: Christina@pocono967.com

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Passport to Poconos – The Latin Bikers in the Poconos

 

Dear friend,

One of the best things about Latin cultures is the ‘togetherness’. We always find a way of sharing something and being together. Here is one of the groups that brought that through their love of bikes.

It was a Saturday morning and I was waiting my turn to be seated in Perkins when I saw a number of people dressed in biker outfits: jeans, boots and black vests with lots of badges sewn on, including the word LAMA.  That stands for Latin American Motorcycle Association. The moment I hear “Latin” in the Poconos, it’s a new opportunity to meet someone connected to my original culture and speak Spanish.

I told the bikers about my weekly radio show and they were eager to come.  I found out their group organizes many community events, but no one had ever invited them to a radio show.

“I’m a Nuyorikan” said Jay, AKA “El Jefe” (The Boss), the VP of the group (referring to his original Puerto Rican roots although he was born and raised in New York). That’s how the New York /Puerto Ricans refer to themselves.

“We are an International Humanist Motorcycle Association,” biker Roberto told me. “What does that mean?” I asked my curiosity spiked. I always thought of bikers as tough dudes who roared through town and refused to let you pass on the highway.

Robert (President) and Jay referred to their members as “brothers” and “sisters” and stressed their family oriented values. They told me about the community events they support and the yearly grant they give to a student “Do you have to be a Latin to belong to the club?” I asked.” “No,” Roberto replied, “What you need to have a 650cc bike and be accepted by the ‘Chapter’ (as they call their clubs), after a trial period. We also have female riders whom we call “Damas” (ladies), and we accept every nationality, race, gender, age. We´re open to anyone who shares our values.

Behind their biker looks, I found kind and sweet people willing to share their love for biking with humanitarian work in their community.

I asked Jay what it feels like riding a 650cc bike, He said you can´t describe it, but it’s the same rush a dog feels putting his head out of the window of a speeding car. With all the talk about good works and scholarships, I guess motorcycle riding is always going to be about the great feeling of freedom on the road. Our winding highways through the Poconos are perfect for bikes, and we´ve got biker hangouts like the Minisink Hotel to make sure bikers get properly hydrated.

I want to feel that wind. I´m going to put on my leathers and join the pack. I can see myself on the back of a big bike—the summer breeze through my hair–and then I wake up from my daydream and look outside at the five-foot piles of snow. Will spring ever come?

More about LAMA at: lamapocono.com

Christina´s radio show with a Latin flavor is every Sunday morning at 8:00 AM on Pocono 96.7. Tu Voz con Christina. Email: Christina@pocono967.com

                             

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Passport to Poconos – El Invierno en los Poconos

 

Querida Mari Carmen:

Todos los años, a mediados de Diciembre sientes que el clima está muy frío y emprendes un viaje a Panamá para visitar a tu hermana y alejarte del frío congelante. ¡Qué afortunada que eres!

La última vez que fui a España fue en pleno invierno y mi amiga panameña, Gabriela, me dijo: “Qué fantástico, disfrutarás del clima templado”, pero le comenté que el invierno en España es realmente invierno. A pesar de que el clima varía en diferentes partes de España, desde templado hasta muy frío, nunca viví un invierno como el de Nueva York o “Poconos”. Aquí, el clima es algo que sólo puedes explicar si lo vives. Se siente como si un cubo de hielo te golpea en la cara.

La primera vez que vi mucha nieve fue en la parte norte del estado de Nueva York. Era tan blanca que me recordó de aquellos paisajes que había visto en las películas de Navidad. Disfruté mucho lo blanca que era. “Espera hasta que se ponga como barro”, todos dijeron.

Cuando me mudé de España a la ciudad de Nueva York, experimenté las estaciones del año por primera vez. El cambio de las estaciones es una de las cosas bellas de vivir en el Noreste, siendo el invierno la primera estación del año que viví. El invierno es muy diferente en Nueva York que en los “Poconos”.

En la ciudad, todo es blanco y hermoso hasta unas horas más tarde donde la nieve se vuelve jabonosa y barrosa. Una vez que se torna como agua, caminar en la calle, esperar un autobús, tomar el subte, evitar que los automóviles te salpiquen, procurar no resbalar en la calle o bajar las escaleras del subte pueden convertirse en una aventura.

El invierno en los “Poconos” presenta un desafío diferente. He aprendido algunas cosas que no había tenido en cuenta antes, entre ellas, a vestir en forma adecuada, estar atenta a las placas de hielo y tratar de no manejar en la nieve o el hielo, y de hacerlo, a ser muy cuidadosa y manejar despacio. Luego de tomar todas las precauciones, todavía patinas; las indicaciones de tráfico dicen “doblar en la dirección de deslizamiento”, pero ¿Qué indicación es esa? ¿La dirección hacia la cual me estoy deslizando o la dirección desde la cual me deslizado? ¿El frente o la parte de atrás del automóvil?, todavía no he entendido esto.

La gente me dice cómo ellos se asustaron cuando les pasó a ellos y juraron no manejar hasta que el tiempo se mejore. Nos pasó a nosotros unas semanas atrás cuando íbamos a una cena. Mi esposo repetía: “Quizás deberíamos volver” y yo decía “Estoy segura de que llegaremos, mejorará pronto”, pero eso no sucedió y la situación sólo empeoró.

Si no estás acostumbrado a manejar, especialmente en estas condiciones donde las rutas están congeladas como hielo, te acordarás de todas tus plegarias en un segundo. Me sucedió a mí e hice un comentario de recordar de no ser tan aventurera en áreas desconocidas. Aquella noche, mis rezos fueron escuchados y el GPS de mi iPhone nos condujo diez millas a la redonda por una ruta alternativa despejada de nieve.

También disfruto nuevos placeres como caminar en la nieve y aprender sobre esquí campestre. Pero lo mejor es mirar caer los copos de nieve desde la comodidad de mi hogar. Si tienes una chimenea, lo hará más especial aún.
Estoy lista para recibir la primavera.

Translated by Celia Elizabelar –Freelance Translator & Interpreter- Email: translatespanish@hotmail.com

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Passport to Poconos – Living Between Boxes

 

Dear friend,

 Thank you for telling me that after moving six months ago, you still haven’t unpacked all your boxes. And you say it with a smile that gives me hope.

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When we first moved to the Poconos I started unpacking the boxes corresponding to the kitchen. I needed at least one room that was completed and would give me a sense of order and belonging. Many other boxes went into the basement for future unpacking. Over five years we never quite got to the basement, making forays down there when we needed something, searching through endless boxes until we found it or declared it lost. That’s the danger of having too much storage space.

 

When we began moving to our new house last fall, I realized it didn´t have a basement, and I panicked. Where would we put everything?  My husband´s theory of a no-basement house was that it would force us to get rid of everything we didn´t use and didn´t need. This was a good theory but tough to stick with.

 

We started moving in November, went away for the holidays in December, and came back with January 31 as the ultimate outside date. Still, things progressed at a snails pace. We kept procrastinating until we had only four days left. Our neighbor Hillary took pity on us and came over to take charge. Hillary was like a master sergeant of moving.

 

“I want to keep this and this,” I kept saying while she stared at me with a scornful look. “Why do you want to keep this? Did you use it in the last two years?”

 

Finally, my husband rented a truck and Hillary and I loaded bag after bag bound for the Salvation Army. Have you ever been to the Salvation Army loading dock in East Stroudsburg? Everything from baby car seats to video games to toasters is piled up waiting for someone to sort through it all. They don´t take clothes on the dock. You throw those in the ¨donation¨ dumpsters. What happened to the clothes? I don´t want to think about it.

 

We also emptied two storage units we had been renting, so we ended up living in a house without a basement, surrounded by endless boxes and disassembled furniture.

 

Only my cats are happy. They hop from one mountain of boxes to another. It must feel like Disneyland to them.  I wonder if we are now living in our own storage unit.

 

My husband insists that it will take us six months to unpack, “Why rush?” he asks as he waves me goodbye to go skiing for a couple of hours. I think he can’t deal with looking through all of those years of his past.

 

But getting rid of the past means leaving space for a new start. I’m looking forward to that and to having a house warming party for my new and old neighbors. When it will that happen is anyone’s guess.

 

 

Christina´s radio show with a Latin flavor is every Sunday morning at 8:00 AM on Pocono 96.7. Tu Voz con Christina. Email: Christina@pocono967.com

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Passport to Poconos – Embracing our Differences

Dear friend,

I’m just flying home from my latest trip to Barcelona, Spain, and it’s the middle of winter. Each time I fly home to the Poconos is with anticipation of being home again mixed with a little regret.

I’m going away from the world I knew for most of my life. Although I don’t feel it is the place for me to live anymore, I do miss my friends and our social routines. Spain is not like the US where you have to plan ahead of time if you want to meet someone. One of my husband’s friends invites us months ahead and I tell him “who knows where I will be by then”. In Spain, if I want a quick chat with my friend Cristina, I call her at her office and ask her if she’s free for a coffee downstairs. My friend Rosa, who has twelve hour shifts as an ER coordinator, is happy to meet for dinner after work, because, as she says: “I have to eat, even if I’m tired. It makes my day to have dinner with a friend after work”. Nothing needs be expensive; friendship is the objective.

I also like how people enjoy life in Spain with less money. They will often meet in the park, or go for a walk, or meet for an inexpensive lunch. There are many places to meet for a cup of coffee or a drink. Years ago, I lived in Segovia, a beautiful city on the plains of Spain, close to Madrid. I had the chance to meet other single women who lived there and we would get together like everybody else, for a wine or soda after work.

We would stand around the bar and get a free montadito (small open-face sandwich) with every drink. It is welcoming (and tasty). The montadito enhanced the warmth of these social encounters and gave us something to eat for the price of an inexpensive drink. I had the chance to meet many people over drinks and montaditos, some of them became friends forever. I wish American bars would catch on to this custom.

Now my friends and I, from the montadito years, meet once a year with spouses and children. Those friendships are still priceless and I feel that it’s one of the gifts my Latin culture offers. However, when somebody asks me if I would go back to live in Spain, I respond: “I like to visit and I miss some things, but my home now is in the Poconos, where I have my cats, my new friends, my new house, my new radio program Tu Voz con Christina (“Your Voice with Christina”) on Pocono 96.7 and my Pocono Record weekly column and blog post. I have a lot of blessings to count and I keep adding new chapters in to my life in the Poconos.

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Passport to Poconos – Volver al Hogar de Orígen (Spanish Version)

 

Querida Claudia:

Cuando me dijiste que necesitabas tomar vacaciones luego de regresar de unas vacaciones en Colombia, me causó risa y alivio saber que no sólo me ocurría a mí. Al principio, preparas todos los encargos y regalos. Al momento de tomar el avión, ya estás cansada de todas las compras y una vez que llegas a destino, comienza un maratón para ver a todos y hacer cosas antes del regreso. ________________________________________________________

Volver a casa, ¿es tomar vacaciones? No, no lo es, al menos para mí. Y lo que era mi hogar una vez, ya no lo es a pesar de que es familiar. Conozco mucha gente de mi infancia a quienes quiero ver para no olvidarlos. Siempre hay muchas tareas para hacer desde llenar solicitudes de residencia extranjera hasta papeles del banco que me hacen sentir como que nunca me fui; El tiempo que tengo es tan corto que llego a mi casa en Pennsylvania estresada.

Desde que me mudé a los Estados Unidos, he sido muy afortunada de poder volver a España al menos una vez al año y a veces más a menudo. Al comienzo, permitió que la transición de la mudanza fuera más tranquila. Estaba tan conectada, aunque todavía lo estoy, a mi vida de antes que hablaba con mi amigo Chuss todos los días por Skype y le decía cosas como “¿Sabías que Rose va a hacer una fiesta mañana?”.

Era la primera que le daba las noticias a mis amigos. Lo irónico es que ellos estaban todos en la misma ciudad y yo estaba viviendo a 6.000 millas de distancia. Pero siento que esta conexión tan cercana que mantenía no me permitía aprender sobre mi nuevo país y hacer nuevos amigos, tenía miedo de dejar todo eso, temerosa de que mi pasado entero desapareciera. Recientemente, Caren una amiga estadounidense me dijo “Tú ya no compartes la misma vida y no estás en el día a día de sus vidas”. Ellos tampoco están en la tuya y si no aceptas eso, no podrás vivir tu nueva vida intensamente.

Pienso que ella tiene razón. Durante el primer año en New York y más tarde en los Poconos intenté adaptarme a mi nueva vida pero siempre concentrada en mi vida de antes. Skype, Facebook, correo electrónico y aplicaciones gratuitas hicieron que mi vida a la distancia con mis viejos amigos sea más facil. Entonces cuando tenía la oportunidad de volver a España, me esforzaba por hacer una lista de todas las personas que quería ver y llenaba el calendario con las citas. Regresaba a casa exhausta y con la necesitad de unas nuevas vacaciones.

Este año fui más de una vez. Mi madre es mayor y estoy dispuesta a sufrir los inconvenientes y el desfase horario para ver su felicidad cuando me ve. Ahora me concentro en visitar a mi madre y no en las otras cosas que solían ocupar mi tiempo. Por primera vez en 8 años sentí que no tenía que correr una maratón para agendar tantas actividades y ver a mis amigos. He relegado mis viejos amigos a quienes veo cuando el tiempo me lo permite.

Mis nuevos amigos en los Poconos ocupan el lugar de esas sesiones diarias de charlas por Skype y mensajes de textos. Esta vez en España me pude relajar y mostrar mi ciudad a mi esposo. Los sentimientos con mis viejos amigos perduran intactos y cuando los visito parece que el tiempo nunca ha pasado. Finalmente acepté que soy una visita en España. No he sido olvidada y cuando nos vemos empezamos de nuevo en donde quedamos la última vez.

Pero mi hogar es donde el corazón está y mi nuevo hogar está en los Poconos.

Translated by Celia Elizabelar –Freelance Translator & Interpreter- Email: translatespanish@hotmail.com

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Passport to Poconos – Travel Journey

Dear Emma,

Thank you for sharing your adventures in a ‘jail’ in Switzerland that is now a hotel. I panicked when I saw your Facebook comment about how you spent ‘a night in jail. Your curiosity is inspiring!

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 I like travelling too. I’ve done it all my life: First with my parents, then with my friends, later for work and now with my husband. My father used to work for an airline so we could travel free as long as there were seats available. My parents came from different countries, so we needed to travel to create and keep a relationship with my mother’s relatives. My father had to work many weekends, so sometimes he would take us to the airport with him. We would sit in the waiting area watching the passengers; and imagining that we were the ones going to unknown destinations.

Discovering new cultures has always been fascinating to me. I grew up in Europe where countries are so close to each other it makes it easier to travel. We could hop in the car and be in France in two hours.

When I got older I would go with my friends, wherever our budget would allow us, and we would stay in hostels where we would meet other travelers from all over the world. I remember many young college students from the US who were taking a few months or a year off, traveling around. They would get an eurail pass train pass that would allow them unlimited train travel all over Europe for a month. Some of them told me they would take the train at night so they could sleep aboard and save money on hotels. I imagined how it was for them, going from one country to the next, changing currencies, languages, food, etc. It must have been fascinating. And they were traveling so cheaply!

I think the most important thing is to have the will to discover a new place; whether it’s somewhere close to home or the other side of the world. Now that I’m a Poconovian, I can go to Lancaster and visit the Amish world; I had a vague idea about them through the movies before moving to the Poconos. I’ve also been in Niagara Falls, a six hours destination by car from the Poconos. People come from all over the world to see it. One day I´ll get to Pittsburg!

Recently, on one of my trips I met a local man who told me that one day he wanted to take the plane from one city to the next, stay on the airport and fly back because he wanted to experience flying. That is his travel dream.

I’ll always be a restless spirit at heart, so when I have a choice to travel, I will. However if I can’t go far away I can get to corners of the world. I can visit some within a few hours of the Poconos. For example, if I want the best Chinese food I don’t have to go to China, I can go to Flushing, NY. And here in the Poconos I´m discovering people from Chile, Argentina, Peru, Panama, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Dominican Republic, and even a “far off” country called Montana. I want to know them all.

 

Christina´s radio show with a Latin flavor is every Sunday morning at 8:00 AM on Pocono 96.7. Tu Voz con Christina. Email: christina@pocono967.com

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Passport to Poconos – Anticipación y Temor al Cambiar de Hogar

 

Querida amiga,

 

Gracias por compartir tu historia; me contabas como los paisajes de los Poconos te recordaban a tu querido Puerto Rico, y como te alegrabas de haber cambiado tu residencia en el Bronx por estos paisajes.

 

 

Este año nos compramos una casa: Una casa auténtica con un pequeño jardín alrededor. Será la primera vez que vivo en una casa.  Nuestra casa anterior era adosada, mi primera residencia en los Poconos. Me siento como si estuviese abandonando a mi mejor amiga.

 

Nos trasladamos a los Poconos en la mitad del invierno y sin amigos ni conocidos, hice de mi residencia mi hogar; un lugar donde sentirme cobijada y segura. Me encantaba el sol que radiaba por la ventana por la mañana, cocinar me relajaba asi como la energía que inundaban las paredes.

 

Estoy entusiasmada con mi nueva casa pero también siento temor y ansiedad al enfrentarme a algo que no conozco. Cuando nuestra vecina María (que vende residencias) me dijo que había encontrado la casa ideal y nos la mostró me preguntó: “¿Te gusta?, no pareces muy contenta”. “No sé que es lo que tengo que buscar. Todo me parece bien, pero nunca viví en una casa anteriormente; es mi primera experiencia”.

 

Ella fue paciente y nos guió con los papeleos e inspecciones. Cuando la anterior dueña dejó la casa, volví a entrar y me parecía un sueño pero todavía no me veía viviendo en una casa que sólo había visto en las películas americanas. Me sentía en un mundo ajeno.

 

Finalmente empezamos a empaquetar y una mañana llegó el camión de las mudanzas. No estaba preparada para ver como se iban llevando las cajas y la casa empezaba a aparecer desnuda, sin vida. Me senté en el colchón, que estaba en el suelo mientras escribía mi trabajo final de la universidad en mi ordenador y mis gatitas estaban acurrucadas a mi lado.

 

Todavía no nos hemos trasladado. Estoy con trabajos finales de la universidad y preparando mi programa de radio que sale los domingos en Pocono96.7  a las ocho de la mañana (pocono967.com). Sin embargo la mayor parte de mi ropa ya está en la otra casa, y esta mañana me levanté no pudiendo encontrar mis prendas más básicas. Le tuve que pedir a mi esposo que fuese a la nueva casa a traerme ropa. Me sentía como una constante viajera, viviendo desde mi pequeña maleta.

 

Todavía no sé qué esperar de mi nuevo hogar. Mi amigo Fernando insiste en que tengo que sacar las hojas antes de que empiece la nieve, que ya empezó, o quemará el césped. No sé de que habla; me queda mucho que aprender.

 

 

                                                    

 

 

                       

 

 

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Passport to Poconos – Valentine’s day – Celebrating it Twice!

 

Dear friend,

 

It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s the first exciting and engaging event in the calendar after the Christmas holidays and halfway through winter. I feel this is part of what makes it so special.

 

 

Over the years I’ve heard some people loving Valentine’s Day and others thinking it’s just too commercial. My husband dislikes it.  I like it. “But do you remember how one year, you sent me flowers while I was in New York and you were overseas?” I asked?  “Ah, but that was when we were dating,” he answers. 

When I was in Spain, Valentine´s Day was perceived as an American festivity that celebrated romantic love. Once we adopted it,

businesses in Spain thrived on it. However, in the region where I come from, Catalonia, there is another similar celebration called St. Jordi (St. George´s Day), on April 23rd. Originally, on this day, a man gave his beloved one a red rose and she in return, would give him the gift of a book (a rose is for love and a book is forever). Now it has evolved into rose and book giving from not only lovers but friends and businesses too. Everyone gets something; you can expect your bank to give you a rose or a book. 

As far as I remember, it has never rained this day and it’s a joy to walk around the streets of Barcelona filled with people, roses and books. This is a special time that I miss not being there. Now I celebrate both: Valentine’s Day and St. Jordi with the group called Friends of Catalonia in New York City. We have a free event with books, food, roses and activities for children.

Maybe books for Valentine’s Day in America is a good idea, and more roses as well. Everywhere I turn, the symbol of Valentine´s Day seems to be red paper hearts. My beautician confessed to me recently that many women get a ‘wax job’ with a heart shape’ for Valentine´s Day. She starts by drawing the shape with a pen and then applying the wax and ripping it off. I hope it works for them.

 

The most creative gift I got for my husband was a dinner with raviolis that were shaped like hearts.  

 

“Love and appreciation should go around the clock” my husband says every year, “it’s not only one day ”. “Okay, “ I reply, “ but sometimes we’re so consumed by daily life that this day is an occasion to let each other know how much you care,” I answer.

 

So with a book, a candle, a heart shaped ravioli or any creative things you come out with, I hope all of you make the most of this holiday that is full of good intentions. It´s never too late to show love and appreciation.

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Passport to Poconos – Endless Winter

 

 

Dear Mari Carmen,

 

Every year in the middle of December you find the cold weather too much for you and go to Panama to visit your sister and to stay away from the freezing weather. Lucky you!

 

 

Last time I went to Spain, it was in the middle of winter, and my friend Gabriela, a Panamanian, said: “How wonderful, you’re going to the warm weather.”  I had to remind her that winter in Spain is really winter. Though the weather in different parts of Spain varies from mild to really cold, I’ve never experienced anything like the winters in New York and the Poconos. The weather here is something that you can only explain if you live it.  It feels like a block of ice hit you on the face!

 

The first time I saw a lot of snow was in Upstate New York. It was so white that it reminded me of those landscapes I had seen in Christmas movies. I enjoyed how white everything was. “Wait until it gets muddy” everyone said.

 

When I moved to New York City from Spain, I experienced the seasons for the first time. Seeing the seasons change is one of the beautiful things about living in the Northeast. And the first season I lived through was winter. Winter is very different in New York City than it is in the Poconos.

 

In the City everything is white and pretty until a few hours later when it becomes soupy and muddy. Once it turns to slush and soup, just walking on the street or waiting for the bus or getting to the subway can be an adventure. Avoid being splashed by cars, avoid slipping on the streets, and avoid slipping when you’re going down the subway stairs.

 

Being in the Poconos during the winter is a different challenge. I learned a few things I never had to learn from my old life: dress properly, watch the black ice, try not to drive in the snow or ice, and if you do, be careful and drive slowly. After taking all the measures and you still skid, the directions say ¨turn in the direction of the skid.” But which direction is that? The direction I´m skidding towards or the direction I´ve skidded from? Front or back of the car? I still haven´t figured that one out.

 

People tell me how they panicked when it happened to them and swore not to drive until the weather got better. It happened to us a few weeks ago when we were on our way to a dinner party. My husband kept repeating: “We might have to turn around” and I kept saying “I’m sure we can make it, it should get better soon.” (it didn´t, it got worse).

 

If you’re not used to driving or driving on freezing icy roads, you’ll remember all your prayers in a second.  I did and I made a point to remember not be so adventurous in areas unknown to me. My prayers were answered that night by my iPhone GPS, which led us ten miles around on an alternate road that had been plowed.

 

I also enjoy some new pleasures like walking in the snow and learning to cross country ski. But the best thing is watching the snowflakes from the warmth and comfort of the house.  If you have a fireplace (we don´t), that makes it even more special.

 

I’m ready for Spring.

 

 

                                             

 

 

 

 

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