I hate snow!
As I was scrolling through social media the same morning that seven inches of heavy packing snow lay on the ground outside, there she was…
A California friend of mine posed for a selfie with her husband. The background displayed four inches of snow on top of his truck roof. Awe, how cute.
Her long, curly hair blew in the chilly breeze while she was wrapped in her newest winter coat. Her fashionable boots, the expensive ones with fine leather laces that wrap up and around the suede calf to the knee, seemed in pristine condition. So adorable, I wanted to vomit a little bit in my mouth.
My friends were up in the Sierra Nevada’s, if my memory recalls correctly, about 4000 ft elevation. I know the place well. I’ve been there more than once. She talked on her cute little post that, awe, they got snowed in for the weekend. What a magical few days.
There were pictures of the landscape in the post. The frozen lake. The peaks of granite mountains covered in white glossy powder. Little squirrels casually munching on forest nuts. Okay, the last one was extreme. But you get the picture. Did I mention the rising vomit?
Finally, when the DNR, or whatever they call the Forest Rangers in California, finally got to their location to plow them out, they were once again able to drive back down the mountain to their quaint little home in the Valley; which at this time of year, is a cold and blustery sixty eight degrees. Awe!
Here’s a hand gesture for you, friend. It’s just one finger. (Take your mind out of the belligerent gutters.) One index finger twirling in Yippie fashion.
I used to live down the road from those friends. This time of year, it was enjoyable to look at the weather report and laugh at the family and friends back home in the Midwest. Now I’m stuck here, shoveling twice a day with five-foot mounds of snow every five feet because the Village needed to plow the streets and make sure the fire hydrants are accessible.
Just yesterday, when the temperature rose to a blistering thirty-three degrees, the little bit of snow on the drain pipe started thawing and draining onto the walkway I had just shoveled. The awesome and most exciting part of dripping drain pipes is when the temp drops below thirty-two, the pavement freezes, and I slip and fall in the front yard while neighbors across the street stare out the window saying to themselves, “That sucks.”
Sure, I might be a bit jealous, but this is now my life. Yea! Can’t wait for the nine inches this weekend; not to mention the polar vortex sliding through with a high of zero.
Good times!
Let us not forget that most schools now have e-learning days instead of snow days. If there was ONE good thing about massive amounts of snow it was watching the kids experience the joy of a surprise day off of school while they bundled up and joined their friends to play outside in fresh, abundant piles of flakes from the sky. Now they get to sit in front of a computer all day. Joy.
I am upping my game in the real estate stalking department to plan for a move to a warmer climate.
Stay warm!