Lots of Bostonians love to h8 on winter, which I simply do not understand. Cold is wonderful. One can always put on more clothes, and cold generally makes me want to move. Heat, on the other hand, pretty much makes me want to die.
Much to the delight of my soul and my arm muscles (which got totally toned in January [but did not stay that way, unfortunately, once the snow stopped]), we had a succession of blizzards during the first month of the year. Not just snowstorms–real honest-to-goodness nor’easters complete with howling wind and driving snow. Feet and feet of snow. I shoveled snow for a total of between 10-15 hours in January. This is OK with me. I was ready:
Good thing too, since I had to push pretty hard just to get the screen door open:
We forged on, eventually creating some pretty big piles:
Because our driveway is long and narrow, we soon had no place to put the snow and had to throw it over that 6- or 7-foot-tall fence:
Can you tell where I usually park?
And after all this, I can still say that I adore winter, and I’d rather be too cold than too hot, and I love snow, and going for a walk when it was -7°F was way awesome. Now summer is here, and I’m quite a bit less excited about the weather, but I hope to make the best of it. Next week is the Fourth of July and THAT will be AMAZING.