by Susie M. Arviso

Created on: November 09, 2010   Last Updated: December 06, 2010

I suppose I took it for granted living in warm and sunny, southern California. Born and raised there, I spent fifty-two years of my life in the state, where the skies are almost always clear blue and one could count on the weather pretty much staying the same most of the year. Winters there rarely get below the low fifties in southern California.

Framed with mountains and hills, and  sunny

beaches within a half hour drive, there was always the opportunity for scenic drives to hilltop views of the ocean or valleys below, hiking in the canyons, and snow was something that we drove for two hours to visit every few years. Unlike Florida, California doesn't have the humidity, either.

My daughter had moved with her husband and kids to Topeka, Kansas over a decade ago. I tried to coax them into moving back so that I could be around my grandchildren as I had always envisioned I'd be. They wouldn't budge.

I realized that if I was going to see my grandchildren at all, I had to move where they are. So I moved to Topeka, Kansas in January of 2009. It took four days to drive to Kansas, and we were met with a white blanket of snow, and bare, blackened trees that were encased in ice and hanging icicles.

The trees rarely lose all their leaves in California, and even during winter, the lawns are still green. The most I had ever worn for the winters in California was a light sweater jacket.

Yet as soon as I let myself out of the moving truck in Topeka, I realized almost immediately I would need to buy a new wardrobe. It's funny how one can have their clothes on and still feel naked. That cold went straight through my clothes right into my bones.

Nobody told us that "shoveling" would become our new job in the Midwest. Oh, and don't forget the new sport of weather-watching. Ha, nobody really pays attention to weather reports in southern California. 

Within the week of our arrival, we found ourselves at the store buying assorted shovels, gloves, boots, rock salt and fleece clothing. I still haven't found the perfect jacket to keep out (what I call) the "predatory cold". The best "jacket" is to stay in the house.

Of course, we did have to leave the house to shop, work, and go on errands, so this wasn't always possible. Never in my life had I experienced this caliber of cold.

I started to wonder why people would deliberately live in the Midwest. Last winter, it was so cold, I didn't want to get out of the car to go into the stores or doctor's offices, or anything. I'd sit there in my vehicle working up the courage to make the mad dash through the frozen parking lot without slipping on the icy pavement.

Nevertheless, I went down for the count three times last winter.

I quickly realized that ice isn't always visible, and yet, a fifty-four year old woman slipping and falling in front of everyone with her legs flying up in the air was extremely visible. It was a rather embarrassing and undignified sort of feeling. I would not recommend the experience to anyone.

I also discovered that cranking up the heat at home, means that you are bending over for the gas company and get to pay a huge bill later. Never in my life had I ever paid more than $50.00 for a gas bill.

The grand total at the end of last winter? ... a shattering $785.00 for two months. I suppose the 79 mark on the thermostat was meant for the unsuspecting, out of state suckers? I'm surprised I didn't get a "thank you" card from the gas company.

This year? I'm armed and ready. I've got my electric blanket, my space heaters, and Eskimo clothes. Oh ... and my sweet, precious grandchildren whom I love so dearly. It's enough warmth to withstand many more winters.

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