I like winter — I really do. I’m not one of those people who live in Kansas City and complain about the cold weather.
By the way this always confuses me. Are these whiners suddenly surprised that they live in the middle of the country? It has to be fairly difficult to mistake Kansas for Florida. We have pin oaks not palm trees and the only ocean breeze we are getting is from a can of Bora Bora scented Febreze that promises “tropical magic.”
If you live in the Midwest it seems imperative that you embrace winter, or else you’re going to be a wee bit miserable. And what could it hurt to be optimistic about a season that brings you snow? It’s beautiful and camouflages so many sins, like all the leaves in my yard. I think of snow like Joanna Gaines of “Fixer Upper” fame thinks of shiplap – it delivers an instant wow factor.
But, after last weekend I realized that, although I’m still all about being on team winter, I’ve got some perimeters for the season, especially regarding any form of frozen precipitation.
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Let’s start with ice.
I consider ice snow’s evil, colder twin. Ice doesn’t bring any joy and it’s sneaky. How many times have you wiped out due to walking on pavement that looked “just fine” and it turned out to be slip and slide.
Ice also woos idiots into thinking that they can drive. It’s like it cast a spell and tells people to get out there and hit the roads. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not out there lurking. Ice is at its worst when it’s showing off and glazes an entire city. It’s like a mean girl at the prom. She may look beautiful, but in her heart, she’s plotting destruction.
Snow, on the other mitten, is always welcome. The one exception is snow with a high-water content like we had last weekend. I call that sloth snow because shoveling it is like trying to get my great uncle out of a broken recliner. It takes a whole lot of heave ho to move it.
I prefer the drier, fluffier snow. It’s like a can of light, luscious whipped cream, while the sloth snow is like mashed potatoes that have been left out too long at a cafeteria — heavy and prone to just sit there take down power lines and 40-year-old trees.
I guess this means I prefer a genteel winter. I like my snow to quickly melt before it gets all dirty and unsightly and I also don’t like any snow shenanigans. This means I don’t want any repeats from earlier this month of me leaning out of an upstairs bedroom window and beating a tree with a broom to get the snow off branches that looked ready to permanently liberate themselves from the weight.
I’m also don’t mind being trapped in my house for a snow day as long as I have cinnamon rolls and, most importantly, electricity.
During the last big storm half my neighborhood lost power. Our house fortunately did not, but you would have thought we were on the Titanic after it hit an iceberg when part of the neighborhood went dark.
I was screaming at my kids to make sure they were charging all their devices and my husband broke out something called the “back up brick.” No one cared that we were precariously close to not having any heat, hot water or light. The only thing that mattered was being able to connect our phones, tablets and laptops to the Internet.
Hmm, maybe I need to revise my “I like winter” statement to “I like winter in small manageable doses.”
Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@ gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs, on Twitter at @snarkynsuburbs and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.