Sick of Winter - 2/4/09

I am sick of winter.

There. I said it. I have absolutely no right to feel this way. It's February. I live in New England. It’s what’s to be expected this time of year. But dang! This is bordering on ridiculous. I have not seen my lawn since before Christmas. My shrubs are twisted and misshapen from the weight of all the snow. Have we been transported to Narnia, where it's winter all the time? Here comes the white witch with a box of Turkish Delight, her evil dwarf sidekick cackling with glee.

Personally, I blame Al Gore. He and his global warming have lulled us into a false sense of security. Sure, we've had snow these past few winters, but we've also had more than our share of freakishly warm days in the dead of winter, to the point where robins returned to my yard and hopeful crocus buds poked their heads out of the soil only to shriek in horror and return to their winter beds.

I'm not alone in this. While waiting at the pick-up line for my second grader, one mother commented "I hear we're supposed to get more snow next week," to which a group of us simultaneously groaned and rolled our eyes. We should be counting our blessings. With all the storms, our school has had only one delayed opening and one snow day. Still... I'd really like to re-fill my bird feeders without donning snow pants and sinking up to my knees in frozen concrete (or so it feels).

Let's not forget how much fun it is navigating our shopping carts through layers of slush and slop. That's a workout in itself. And hey, who doesn't love the lack of parking spaces at places like the YMCA or the mall or Shaws? Those adorable mountains of grey snow/sand/ice will be in the parking lot till April. Whoopee!

The Boston Globe ran a special feature in their lifestyle section all last week entitled, 'Why We Love Boston In Winter". Obviously, even the Globe knows their readers are sick of all the snow and ice if they need to be reminded that winter in Boston is a good thing. You might have a tough time convincing those folks whose cars have been towed during a snow emergency. Or buried completely by the plow. Not to mention all those people in Southie and East Boston who shovel out and have to mark their territory with lawn chairs and traffic cones and shopping carts. "Why We Love Boston in Winter?" Guess what. We don't!

Animals have it right. Hibernation is the way to go. Stuff yourself until you're loaded with fat, then take a nice long sleep, happily oblivious to the swirling snow and ice outside your den. Wake up just in time to see bluebirds twittering in the trees and bunnies frolicking through the fields.

As of this writing, I have no idea whether or not that lovable rodent Punxsutawney Phil will see his shadow or not, thereby "predicting" an end to or an extension of winter. I just know that I'm starting to feel like Bill Murray from that film 'Groundhog Day." Wake up. Get out of bed. Look out window. See snow falling. Groan in misery. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I'm going back to sleep. Wake me when the temperature gets above fifty degrees.