Some think we in the North Country are touched. Living up in the tundra as we do, the weather seems to average in the neighborhood of very dang cold. I used to be sane, not sure when, but I used to be sane. Normal weather patterns were the thing for me. I enjoyed seventy degree weather and green grass most of the year. I imagined the perfect season being Spring to Summer. My delusions were complete with island fantasies and coconuts. But, alas that was then and this is now.
Some time about twenty years ago my rational brain began to change. I found that I didn’t mind the snow to much, that winter wasn’t the bane of the North, but rather the cleansing of the earth. Then it happened, I believe Romona had something to do with this, I lost all rational reason and found myself enjoying the really darn cold stuff and winter became an extended Christmas time. I get recreation by traveling to the driveway and shoveling snow into higher and higher piles. Maybe I’ll break a world record.
Romona and I gain sick pleasure from watching snow fall by the feet saying, Ohhh, and Aahhh as we go. Then it’s off to the shovel.
So here’s to the back aches, the sore mussels, and plenty of hot coco, Winter’s back and onward Ho.