It's no secret. Old Man Winter can be a brutal old soul. With his mighty gusts of wind coupled with ice and snow, the old guy is known for the havoc he creates. Yes, between Old Man Winter and Mother Nature — well, let's just say that pair is usually associated with a typical Illinois Valley winter.

As a child, I was one of those kids who begged to go outside and play in the white stuff. Between snow forts and snowmen and snowball fights, crazy games of Fox and Geese, and sledding down the hill by the barnyard, I'd stay for hours until my legs and feet and hands and face were so red and so cold they were almost numb. Still, I'd cry when the adults forced me inside to stand on one of those old registers and shed my wet and icy clothes.

Likewise, I was always a fan of the radio on winter mornings. I'd sit there until the last minute, hoping I could replace getting ready for school with a lazy snow day at home. More times than not, though, I was disappointed, since school was seldom canceled way back then. Begrudgingly, I would don my warmest clothes, slip my bread-bag covered feet easily into red rubber boots and head out into the blustery day to wait for the school bus.