I’m fairly certain that the winter is over here in Pennsylvania. The ice age has passed.
Of course, I’ve been wrong before.
I think about all of those sickeningly-sweet songs about white winters that we are bombarded with over the winter holidays and I want to kill.
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas“? No, I don’t think so.
“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow” … what are you, psychotic?
When you have to deal with 4-foot drifts, when you can’t even open your door to get outside, when your dog goes outside to take a dump and disappears in a pile of snow … that just isn’t right.
I have to admit, snow was magical when I was a kid. But then, so was eating paste. Both are now somewhat less than enchanting.
It was 81 degrees here today, April 11th. Roughly 30 degrees over the average for this time of year. The way things work here in PA, it’ll probably be down in the twenties by the end of the week.
People were never meant to live like this. Cabin fever just starts to set in and you don’t have a proper mourning period for its passing. You’re suddenly thrust into heat waves and mosquitoes. One day your cat is crawling under your sweater to stay warm, the next he’s stretched out in the window getting a sun tan.
I put the screen in the front door yesterday. I hope it doesn’t get clogged with snow and ice tomorrow. I can’t handle another ice age.