Requirement one for snow is that it should melt after 48 hours. Here are two others

I hope by the time you’re reading this, all the snow has melted. It’s not that I don’t like snow. I do. It’s just that I have very specific requirements for it.

One: The snow must melt 48 hours after falling. I call this the “Snow Beautification” doctrine. (Note this doctrine doesn’t apply to ski resorts.) This is because any snow lingering after a couple of days is starting to lose its luster and storybook quality.

Chances are the snow outside your home has gotten dirty and morphed from being magical to mediocre to downright irritating. You may be looking out the window right now, sighing and thinking that the mess needs to melt.

The worst is all the grime-encrusted snow piled up in parking lots. Ugh, it looks like the refuse after a Big Foot and Abominable Snowman jamboree.

My second snow “must have” is that it needs to be fluffy. No one likes heavy snow. It’s like eating a chunky pasta sauce where you don’t know what those chunks are. Is it a veggie? Is it mystery meat? Is it a crouton?

That’s right: croutons. I had a relative who “thickened up” her sauce by stirring in salad croutons. She called it her secret ingredient. Her secret ingredient should have been opening up a can of Ragu.

In what I’m going to call the ultimate act of kindness, one year my mother gifted this relative a case of premium pasta sauce for her birthday. I don’t think it was appreciated by the birthday recipient, but the rest of the extended family was thrilled.

(I love to go off on a tangent and often share family details that should have remained buried, say, in a deep snowdrift. So, my apologies: I will now go back to the subject.)

The main issue, of course, with wet snow is that it’s heavy and back-breaking work to shovel. Did you know that fluffy snow weighs about 4 pounds per square foot while wet snow can exceed 12 pounds per square foot? Yes, friends: I have done my research on wet vs. fluffy and fluffy wins every single time.

I will concede that wet snow makes a better snowman due to its superior packing power. But as an adult I’m willing to sacrifice Frosty and friends so I can shovel my driveway without injuring myself.

My third snow requirement is that it must not impede my freedom for more than 36 hours. I used to be in love with a snow day or two, but since the pandemic I start to get jittery if I feel like I’m trapped in my house.

I know I’m not alone because friends, women in my Pilates class and random strangers at the grocery store I’ve had deep discussions with have all shared this same feeling.

Since the pandemic, being stuck at home has gone from. “How fun! Let’s make cinnamon rolls,” to, “How soon can I get out of here?” The thought of our freedom to get outside and mingle being suppressed has a foreshadowing of doom that has smothered the enchantment of snow days.

But with all this complaining and these rules and regulations, nothing can make me hate winter. It’s cold. It’s cozy. And any time I’m not profusely sweating, I consider that a win.

Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs @snarkynsuburbs, on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.

This story was originally published January 22, 2025 at 5:00 AM.