The winter of my discontent

It’s only mid-January, and I’m struggling to remember a snowier winter than this current one. A part of me feels like I should enjoy it, because younger me would have enjoyed it. The me who would go outside without a coat and not instantly freeze. The me who loved sledding and skiing and snowball fights. That me is not around this year. This me is chilled to the bones. This me wants to hibernate. This me wants winter to end already. And while I can still vaguely appreciate the beauty of falling snow, I appreciate more the beauty of melting snow when we manage to get up above freezing briefly.
This weekend, I head out for Winter Revel, with beer and bar in tow. The forecast still calls for above-freezing, although not quite as warm as the forecast was a couple days ago. It will be time for wool and sharing body heat, and two enormous fireplaces which I have always loved, but which I will love even more this time around. But when friends arrive and alcohol flows, winter will be briefly forgotten. When I fall asleep by the firelight, to the smell of burning wood, I’ll have happy dreams…. Of an early spring.

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