The Winter Of Our Discontent

To all those people on Facebook who are so happy every day with these mild temperatures, I would just like to say:

Sigh.

I want snow.

I grew up in western Massachusetts. One of my favorite photos from my childhood is the picture of my father out in the driveway in the middle of winter, and the snow bank behind him is about four feet over his head.

Ah, those were the days.

Last winter was heaven. All that snow. All that sledding. All that snowboarding. (Not me, of course. The kids. I am in the lodge on the computer, working and drinking coffee.) All those snow days (OK, those weren't so great at the end of June when the bill came due, but still - I love the pace and mood of a snow day).

This year, there was a blizzard in October! Which, for the record, skipped Stonington. All we got out of that was a five-day visit from my mother-in-law.

And this year we have had exactly one actual snow storm! The kids were outside for about nine hours that Saturday, sledding their brains out, and then we hit Yawgoo Valley in Rhode Island that Sunday for only the second snowboarding of the winter.

Thank goodness we have the ice rink in Westerly in which to semi-celebrate a winter sport on a regular basis or we would be completely miserable!

I know, I know, it's noce not to have to deal with all the work associated with the snowy winter, and the dangerous driving, etc. etc. But if I wanted this kind of "winter," I'd move south. I don't want dead and brown, I want white and fluffy!

I want snow.