There's Snow Place Like Home

As winter slogs along, I dream of living in a warmer climate, leaving the house without a parka, hat, gloves and boots. I would simply open my sliding glass door and step out onto my patio and into a world of sunshine and tropical flowers.

I see Facebook posts from my friend, Kate, who lives in Myrtle Beach. Her young son flies along the sand with abandon, and I sigh. One of these days I'm going to lose it, get on a plane and go see her. (Watch out, Kate!)

In the meantime, I suck it up, slog my way through the snow, curse at douchebag drivers who cut me off when it's icy, and hunker down at home as best I can.

In all of my imaginings, though, I know the truth. I will probably live here until I go toes-up. I enjoy my little city, and as bedraggled as it is at times, and with all its faults, it's still home to me.

And I can still find wonderful things to do here.

Last weekend, Mr. Ginley wanted to go see the 1964 Browns exhibit at the Western Reserve Historical Society. I was not too excited myself, but I went along because I knew there would be other things to see, too. We lucked out because there was a speaker from the Pro Football Hall of Fame, who talked about the history of football helmets (among other things) and was really interesting.

Then a gentleman came up to talk about Browns Stadium, and a season ticket holder in the audience started to complain about how the stadium renovations have messed up his view. We all let him rant for awhile, but when he started to say they don't need so many women's restrooms because women don't go to the games late in the season, I had to set him straight. The other ladies in the crowd "here, here'd" me and the guy shut up.

But I digress.

When we walked into the museum, paid our fare, and got our parking token, we were asked if we wanted tokens for the carousel ride. Of course we did. Did we each want two or just one? Two, of course.

So after we saw what we went there to see, we rode the ponies.

The carousel was part of the now-extinct Euclid Beach Park. It has been full restored and it gleams. It's indoors and glides past big picture windows. I hitched myself onto a horse (a feat in itself) and rode with pure joy. We had a blast. And, when the ride stopped, we handed over our second token and did it again.

I was reminded that there are many, many things I haven't yet experienced in this city. We want to take in a film at the Capitol Theater. A coworker told me about the artists' studios in the old Lake Erie Screw factory. And I'm not nearly done with the West Side Market and its culinary joys.

So much left to do right here.

But, Kate, that doesn't mean I won't show up on your doorstep for a visit!