Believe it or not, there are actually times when I wonder to myself, “Why in the world did I move to North Georgia?”
Those times almost exclusively come when the temperature is below freezing and some sort of frozen precipitation is falling from the sky.
I’ve made no secret that I don’t like winter. I especially don’t like snow and ice. Frankly, I’ve seen all the snow I need to see in my lifetime, and the only ice want to see is in the bottom of my adult beverage.
“But the snow is so beautiful,” my friends say.
No, it’s not. Beautiful is watching the sunset on a beach in the Bahamas, and I don’t have to put on half the clothes in my clothes to go outside and see it.
Snow is boring and monochromatic. And cold.
Twice in three days, we had winter storm warnings here. The first time was mostly a false alarm. It mostly rained until dark, when we had a little bit of sleet. The second time was a mix of rain, snow, sleet and freezing rain that left a nice glaze of ice on most everything, including the roads.
Fortunately, the icy roads came after I was finished with work for the week, so I spent my time curled up in bed with a good book, a few movies and a hot cup of coffee.
Northern Americans – we used to call them Yankees, but now that’s politically incorrect – love to make fun of Southerners during winter storm.
“Youse guys shut down the schools for an inch of snow?” they joke. “Back in Syracuse, we had to get three feet of snow before we were allowed to even complain about it.”
Well, if I lived in a place like Syracuse, the home office of winter, I’d probably learn to adjust to snow, too. But I don’t. I live in Georgia, which only gets accumulations of snow every couple of years. So it’s not like I have a lot of experience driving in the stuff.
Besides, if dealing with three feet of snow were so easy, why don’t you go back to Syracuse and enjoy yourself?
I’ll make a deal with Northern Americans. You can make fun of us for how we deal with snow as soon as you promise to quit whining about how hot it is in Syracuse when the temperature hits 90.
You know what we call a 90-degree summer day in Georgia? A cool snap.
Thinking about it, though, if you must have snow, a Georgia snowstorm is preferable. Get enough to cover the ground so folks can play in it. But the temperature rises enough that it all melts by sundown.
That way, we don't have to worry about having snow on the ground for weeks at a time, like they do up north.
I don't want to shovel a driveway. I don't want to de-ice a car. I don't want to put on several layers of clothes, including big, heavy boots every time Milly, the liver and white Springer spaniel who lives at my house, wants to go for a walk.
And neither, really, does anyone else, which is why everyone in Michigan moves to Florida for the winter.
We still have about two more months of winter, which probably means more snow and ice. I’ll find some way to deal with it, probably by hiding under the bed.
Will someone text me when the spring thaw arrives?
