After a week in Texas, and getting to see some of this crazy thing the kids are calling “the sun”, it’s actually somewhat comforting to be home in the Great White North. Of course, upon arriving home, it was more of the Dismal Brown North, but, hey, I’ll take it, especially considering that we had snow falling through the merry month of May. But, well, I live in “Minne-snow-ta” (yes, I see what I did there, and I’m moderately ashamed, and you should be, too), it only seems natural that, just a few scant days after making it back from the south, the sky would open up, and winter would shake it’s fist of fury at all of us.
So yes, it’s been snowing for quite some time, and it isn’t letting up any time soon. Clearly, the season is upset over what happened on the mid-season finale of The Walking Dead (insert shameless plug for my other blog here) and it’s crying in the only way that winter knows how; by blanketing the world in a deep covering of white. It’s rather fitting, too, since we’re sneaking up on the anniversary of the day that HawtWife could no longer be called HawtGirlfriend, and that day was also greeted with a decent blanketing.
But, hey, you didn’t come to my blog to see my wax philosophic about my anniversary. Instead, let’s just talk about the weather for a bit. And, no, this isn’t an opportunity to bash on Minnesotan drivers, many of whom seem to be having a race to see who can make it onto the state DOT twitter feed the fastest. And no, this is not a time to gripe about the fact that the bitter cold is about to slap us in the face. It’s not even a chance to point out that, unless you don’t really care about your flesh, things like hats and gloves are mandatory in this state, but pants are optional (especially if you’ve got a really great sweatshirt to go with your shorts).
Instead, I’m going to talk about the season that follows the one we’re truly entering. See, the spring is a time of renewal. Minnesotans may joke that we only get about a week of it before either winter comes back to slap us in the face, or summer strolls in and tries to melt us completely, but at least we get one. Some areas of the world aren’t blessed with temperatures that make ice cream feel warm, and they are crippled by the notion of being able to see green plants year round outside. Sure, they’ve got their own weather issues, but what they don’t get to have is spring. There’s no need for a time for renewal when the land doesn’t die a miserable death all around you. Why thrill to the squishing of mud between bare toes from just thawed ground when your whole world is perpetually unfrozen? And some people just don’t get the joy of a rain that isn’t in the form of ice, trying to slash the flesh from your bones with it’s gentle, freezing caress.
it’s because of all of this that I actually can put up with winter, the terrible driving conditions, and the fact that I am prone to becoming a hermit for at least 4 months of the year, even though I live in the middle of a city. I’ve got spring to look forward to, and I get that joy of watching the world be reborn every single year. And hey, with all of that to look forward to, why would I even want to consider living in a place where the sun is almost always shining, and where the temperature is in the 70s almost all year long?
I mean, feeling your toes for a full 365 just sounds boring.
Rhetoric for Breakfast 