The gods are too cold to talk!

It is snowing everywhere...white fluffy tufts are falling from the sky and filling up our neighborhood. My inbox has mails of how the weather would be for the next few days. Christmas carol cancelled. Church service too, cancelled. That is it, America gets you prepared.  They say we may be stuck in the house for days, things like this don't usually happen in Fort Worth. I sit down and begin tapping away on my computer, tapping words of what would be my first blog article.

I always wanted to have a blog, but I never could make out time. Not that am the world's busiest woman but squeezing time out for writing has been eeeeww. You know how it is, when you feel there's always tomorrow, then you feel the right tomorrow is yet to come. And there always is another tomorrow. But I'm grateful for the times we are in, everybody is blogging and daily I wake up to tweets and updates and articles from Nigeria, about Nigeria and I really can't take it all in. Home doesn't seem too far anymore.

 This is the time we don't wait for newspapers because everybody who has a camera phone can be a reporter and everyone who has a blog can keep you updated. It doesn't matter if it's not always true or if the events are too exaggerated. It's the gist we want..well, the truth, mixed with gist. Who wants to read boring big-worded articles in newspapers when we can get the spicy details on the internet..and for free. Who waits for Newsline and Newswatch on television when there are videos of all sorts on Youtube. Who wants a long wait when there are quick avenues. It's all exciting, this internet thing and if there is anybody missing out on all of it, I feel for you.

Back to the snow. The temperature is below zero. It's like being in a big open freezer. Ice is falling as rain. Heaps of snow fall on the lawns and on cars and on roofs and on pavements. Everything is covered in white and everywhere is quiet. The trees are bare, the leaves didn't wait for winter. These trees look like ghosts. Indoors. I am freezing while the heater is on. Outside, children are skating on the ice.

Why did I have to blog? I am here. And what I am doing is living my life. 

Life is easier when you write or sing about it, making melody with your music and rhythm with your words. So I said to me, Don't keep a diary, start a blog. Put it all out as you see it and as you live it. Write and leave the world your story. Paint pictures of how the journey was for you for every man's walk is different. The internet will keep it safe without insurance, and long after your computers crumble. Many years to come, the words you wrote will make you happy and memories of you will stay. Many years to come, a little child would have the chance to know how her ancestor lived.

Outside, I write my name on the snow and do a happy dance. I looked forward to this day. I used to think that a white Christmas was the perfect one. In my childhood I longed for the snow I saw in books and on television. Those kids were happier because where I had dust, they had snow. They had chocolates. Oh God, they had Santa. In my head, I carefully make a snowman. He is naked and lanky with tribal marks. He needs a walking stick. Inwardly, I long for everything Christmas used to be for me. I have grown in different ways. Now I know there are many things as beautiful as snow. And more important than Santa.