You messed me up, Minnesota

Snow just started falling from the grey, grey sky and I actually feel warmish for the first time in hours. Still, I'm keeping my orange hat on and my scarf within reach. Snow is pretty. There's lots of nice things about snow. Let's all think of them right now.

I used to be far more plucky when facing the winter, particularly at the start of it.

Ohio Valley, circa 1985: The beginning of winter and all its sledding, cocoa, Christmas blahbiddyblah and the general sense that many things cozy and good were on their way. I was a kid who made lists on a regular basis of Things I'm Excited About and yes, there was a Things I Like About Winter list.

I made these lists because I must have really been happy about a lot, including learning calligraphy, and lists were one way to practice calligraphy and innocently practice the power of positive thinking.

I'm still down for a good snowball fight and sit by the fire but have to admit some grousing that causes moderate to severe moodiness on holidays. I also get distracted by my constant dread of being cold.

See, I moved to Minneapolis at age 19 and I'm still in recovery if recovery means that I've turned as-of-yet-irrevocably and vehemently against a season and most of what it entails.

In Minnesota, I rode my bicycle in sixty-below wind chill, waited for the bus in sixty-below wind chill, the skin on one of my ears froze and turned bad colors, and local schools had to close sometimes because the skin on little kids' body parts froze and turned bad colors. It's f'ing cold in Minnesota. And it lasts six months. So, no, not for me.

Since those two years in Minnesota I've lived in Olympia, Ecuador, Seattle, and New York. I've been back in Ohio for about six weeks. I'm adjusting.