As I’m sitting here, another 12” of the white stuff is floating onto our idyllic New England town. With the lights from the street lamps illuminating the snow like dust motes on a hot, sunny day, you can just imagine the thoughts running through my head:
“I’m sick and tired of this [expletive deleted] white stuff!”
“My back still hurts from shoveling the crap from the last storm!”
“Honey, when are the kids going to be old enough to do this for me?”
“That’s it! I’m moving to Florida as soon as I can get the car out of the garage!”
You may be saying to yourself, “serves you right for living in New England, idiot.” Well, this may be true, but I say to you, “you’re lucky you’re not here, or I’d show you the old New England tradition of white-washing.”
If you live in this area of the country, you have a love/hate relationship with the snow. Mostly hate. Sure, everybody loves the white stuff during the holidays. It makes the holidays feel more holiday-like, and offers an opportunity for kids to frolick in the snow, sled, ice skate, make snowmen, and throw snowballs.
But by the end of January, I’m just begging for a warm day. The snow is no longer in its pristine, white state, but is instead a dingy grey. And any day where the temperature creeps above freezing, I’m out in the driveway chopping at the ice with a shovel in a futile attempt to remove the permanent skating rink that has taken up residence where asphalt once reigned supreme.
Or better yet, I’ll try to clear the snow off my roof to prevent ice dams. Ice dams are caused by vicious snow elves that delight in creating huge reservoirs of cold water on your roof. These malignant elves then poke a hole through the roof so the water drains into your walls, ruining the paint or wallpaper. And they only do this in the middle of the night during a freezing rain, which means you get to test your mountaineering skills on an icy slope worthy of a Sherpa while chopping away at a Titanic-sized chunk of ice.
Yes, by the end of January, it’s time to stop. But it doesn’t. New England offers a full winter for its denizens to enjoy. If you live in New England, you’re usually in it for the long haul. A full December to March winter that saps the very life from your soul. Until you see that first bud pop out on the trees. Then, Mother Nature usually tosses out another 12 inches of snow at you just so you know who’s the boss.
Every winter makes me ponder why I’m living in New England at all. It must be a stubborn streak that gets forged into every New Englander’s being as we survive each passing winter. “No matter what, I’m not going to give up! I’m not leaving my New England home even if there’s three feet of snow on April 1st,” (which happened a few years ago). April Fools!
Or maybe, it’s just plain stupidity. In this day and age, there’s really no reason to stick it out. I’m not getting any brownie points from Mother Nature, as evidenced by the hot, sticky summers in New England. If it weren’t for autumn, there’d be very little to look forward to at all, weather wise. For the most part, there’s only three seasons in New England – summer, autumn, and winter – since frigid winter pretty much melts into unbearable summer.
The only joy I get out of winter in New England is when someone from a warmer part of the country comes to visit. And you know who you are. You with your trendy little leather coats and designer shoes. Nothing gives us New Englanders more joy than watching you try to scrape an inch of ice off the windshield of your rental car with a credit card, all while trying to hold the front of your $600 “windbreaker” shut to slow the hypothermia creeping over your body.
My Dad is always threatening to pack up and move south to warmer climates. But I guess I’m just not ready to leave the cold quite yet. I’ve grown accustomed to the aching backs and booger-freezing cold. But if he does decide to go south, I hope he takes the damned snow elves with him.
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That is hilarious, I feel your pain ever-so-slightly. I live in Ohio where we get it all here.
I’m a born and raised new Englander and I love snow. I love it when they start forecasting snow totals in feet rather than in inches. Its exciting and offers a jolt to what you would normally expect for your daily routine. Yes it has it’s challenges, but more often it reminds us all to take it slow and be grateful for the things we have right now… something not normally practiced up here. I know it seems like everyone hates it up this way but that’s just because, up here, people tend to complain more about things they don’t like rather than show gratitude for the things they do like. Embrace it…why spend 6 months out of the year making yourself miserable?