Yeah, I like winter
By Anthony Stoeckert, Packet Media Group
Amid all the endless whining that have filled the Facebook pages of my measly 50 friends the past few weeks, was a gem from a true friend prodding people to just admit how much they love the drama that comes with a storm: The endless weather checks, rushing out to buy milk and eggs (breakfast apparently, becomes vital when it snows), following school closings, and writing posts about how much they hate the snow and shoveling.
”Just own (that) a part of you sort of likes this historic winter,” my friend wrote. “I’m snowed in until June — just in time to complain about the humidity.”
I cheered when I read this.
You see, I love winter. I feel like I should be in a circle in a church basement when I say this — “My name is Anthony and I love winter” — but I mean it. I’ve made a few pro-winter posts, such as a picture of my dog, a pomeranian named Daisy, happily running in the snow, and some fellow winter lovers respond. And that’s not easy, because even I’m tempted to join in on the cold-bashing out of peer pressure.
But you won’t hear me complaining about freezing temperatures and snow. Cold temperatures mean good sleeping weather, no allergies, and cozying up inside with a hot mug of tea or apple cider.
It means being safe at home as my daughter and I watch a movie, play a game or read while drinking hot chocolate. But before that, there’s shoveling and playing in the snow. On Thursday, we made a snowman, and with her being 12 I can’t help but wonder if the most recent snowman we made is our last one.
Want to complain about snow shoveling? I’ve shoveled snow six times this year. I’ll take that over mowing the lawn every week from March to October, especially those brutal July and August mowings. Walk outside on a cold, even freezing, day start shoveling, and you warm up. The second I step out into August heat and humidity, I’m miserable. And pushing a mower over grass makes me hotter, dirty, smelly and miserable.
In the winter, you can put on a coat or sweatshirt, drink a hot drink and warm up by a fire (if you have a fireplace, I don’t). In the summer, you can take off all your clothes and drink gallons of iced tea, water or lemonade, and you’ll still be hot.
I like taking hikes in the winter. The scenery is interesting — snow on the ground, icicles, and ice settled against the banks of streams. Leafless branches stretch to the sky, and bugs aren’t crawling around my feet.
Of course, I know it’s not all fun. I was lucky enough to be able to work from home on Thursday, so my sympathies for people who had to drive in it. There was a snowy night where I had to work in my office, and my car skidded a bit on the way home, scary.
And a drive to Long Island this weekend was a nightmare. Not because of snow and ice, but because of all the potholes. Some of them were so big that Evel Knievel couldn’t have jumped a motorcycle over them.
A lot of people get bummed out when the sun sets early. I’m the opposite. I’ll be honest, at the end of the day, I want to get to bed. And when it’s almost 9 p.m., still light out, and kids are still playing in the street, it’s tough justifying an early bedtime.
In a way, I find the summer depressing. I love going to the beach and taking in the latest summer blockbusters, but the expectations are too high. As Memorial Day rolls around, there are countless summer preview articles and television pieces that make it seem as if we’re in store for three months of barbecues, pool parties and endless hours spent reading in a hammock.
The truth is that most of us have to work. And getting dressed for work, and sitting in traffic in oppressive heat just isn’t fun. A summer-long vacation without money worries sounds great, but day-to-day life in the summer? The truth is that the stack of books doesn’t get smaller, most of the summer blockbusters are big disappointments, and by Fourth of July, I’ve had enough of hamburgers and potato salad in someone’s backyard.
So while everyone else complains, I’ll be cherishing the next fewweeks.
Email Lifestyle editor Anthony Stoeckert at [email protected]