If you live in a part of the world that’s warm all year, never gets snow, ice or cold air and allows you to wear shorts and sandals whenever you please, there is something I’d like to say to you: I hate you.
Maybe hate is too strong of a word. I despise you.
But if I were really going to dig down deep to the psychological root of my feelings, they really are a symptom of envy.
Winter wouldn’t be so bad except for the weather.
From November to April every year, I can’t help envying people who are blessed with tropical weather. Every winter, I can’t help asking the question that environmentalists don’t like to hear: Is there a way to speed up global warming?
I realize, scientifically speaking, global warming is supposed to be bad for us, but what could be worse than freezing our butts off for four months of the year?
Please don’t tell me about the importance of the ozone layer–the only layers I am concerned with right now are how many layers I can put underneath my coat and still manage to get it zipped.
I’ve lived in Minnesota my whole life, yet I still haven’t gotten used to winter. As a child the school in winter always seemed about 10 degrees too cold for me. Just like Mr. Rogers, every morning I would take off my coat and replace it with a sweater.
Going outside for recess was not something I looked forward to. I would purposefully forget to do work that was to be handed in the following day so I had to stay in at recess and do my work instead of going outside to stand in the most sheltered corner I could find and shiver until the recess lady blew the whistle that it was time to go in.
One time I even called a group of boys a bad name so I would get sent to the principal’s office before recess was over.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Hubby keeps reminding me that I’m an old hen now and not a spring chick.
“It’s only going to get worse from here on out,” he tells me when he tries to find me under the covers in the morning to get me moving.
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“Turn up the electric blanket and prepare to die,” I tell him.
How did I end up living in Minnesota when I could be sunbathing daily on a Florida beach? I blame my parents for planting me here originally. My excuse as an adult is that they should be snowbirds and fly away somewhere warmer that I can visit until one day we all decide that Minnesota really is for the birds and we migrate south permanently.
Somehow I just had a gut feeling this winter was going to start out bad. But what do my guts know about weather fronts? My arthritic body is better at predicting weather, but even my aching body can’t be trusted all the time because in the winter things seem to hurt all the time for no reason at all.
“This is character building weather,” Hubby told me the second morning of the cold snap when I refused to leave the comfort of my warm bed and electric blanket.
“I’d rather not have any character than live through another Minnesota cold-front,” I snap.
As Canada continues to spam us with more arctic air, it’s getting harder and harder to mock the snowbirds who flee south this time of year, even if it’s only to Iowa.
But the truth is, all the complaining in the world isn’t going to change the air temperature or my bad attitude about winter.
So I’ll end with a positive note. At least we will have a white Christmas this year.