Is this heaven? 

No, this is Wyoming. As you are reading this, you may be experiencing the last day of warm weather for a while. Not to be the bearer of bad news, but rather, Wyoming news.

We have seen some high temperature records this past week and it was a nice break from the usual subzero February that we had and that we are used to here in the west. Obviously, Mother Nature left for the Caribbean and left specific instructions for doom and chill, shock and awe, snow and blizzard.

Somewhere along the line, one of the “lesser-personifications” got their wires crossed, or double-crossed the weather matriarch and we were witnessing children on bikes, joggers running outside a few months ahead of schedule and polar plungers actually looking forward to the event.

But. The ice princess is reportedly coming back home to Wyoming later this month and all set to become the Grand Marshal of the winter carnival. Some are saying 20 inches of snow, blizzard conditions and limited travel… Depending upon which side of the mountain you are living on.

So, it’s back to the treadmill running along all the other hamsters in the habitrail and hating the fact that “our” polar plunge wasn’t scheduled a week early.

When you think about the big picture, though, we are a peculiar breed. We are Wyomingites. Confined to house arrest for six months out of the year, and when we do go out, we have to layer ourselves with a ton of clothing and we never “linger” between the car and the market. We run. Against the wind. On ice. Without skates.

We owe the gas company our first-born male child and place liens on our property to heat our homes, we wear hats and sweaters continually and we “high-five” each other when the weather forecaster tells us that the temperature may reach 30 degrees. Nobody in their right mind should ever, under any circumstances get excited about a 30-degree forecast.

And don’t get me started about the wind. An added touch of “how can I make the cold more spectacular” from the powers that be. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in another state where the icicles grow sideways. There are stalactites, stalagmites, and Wyoming-sideways.

But we are all in this together, and for that, those of us here in Wyoming are the best bunch of folks to be stranded with. Like the snowflakes that stick together, our power comes from the unity of spirit, dedication of heart and calloused courage to live in a place where 49 other states full of people choose not to trod.

For instance. A former high school classmate, now living in Texas, sent a picture of a few flakes of snow that you could barely see amongst the manicured green blades of grass. She titled the picture, “The blizzard of 2021.” I would have laughed if it weren’t so sad.

Schools were closed, offices were shut down, government didn’t govern. They had to, and I shudder to speak these words… break out their heavy coats and pack away their sweaters as the temperature plummeted to 38 degrees. 

That’s right. The temperature where snow goes to die and it washes away to the GULF OF MEXICO! Now I am not making fun of all the disastrous cold and the lives that were affected, but I guess those up north see things a little differently. We mine coal. We use coal. We’re roasty-toasty warm in the winter.

I felt so bad for them. 

Add sarcastic inflection to that last sentence. I immediately emailed her and asked which Red Cross chapter was collecting for the relief effort. I needed to know where to send my support.

In any event. Buckle up and bundle up my fellow ‘Wyofolks’ – looks like the wisdom of the groundhog prevails again. Once again, we’ll be able to see our breath. “Yah, you betcha, it gives us dah evidence dat we’re ehlive, ehy?”