Back when Joseph and I were still living in Connecticut and merely considering our move to the gorgeous Pacific Northwest, I bombarded him with questions about the climate. He had lived in Washington previously while serving in the Navy and so he could tell me whether I would still see fall foliage (I would, but none nearly as lovely as I’d witnessed in Pennsylvania or in New England). He could tell me, when I asked about snow, that it would snow, but not enough to bother taking our snow shovels with us. I balked a bit at this, but was reminded that if I really wanted to see snow, I could drive to the mountains and there some snow would be.

Well, that’s just not the same. I’m going to say it loudly and with confidence: I miss the snow! Given that the vast majority of my friends and family are back east and under feet of snow right now, I can anticipate the responses of those currently snowed in. So before anyone gets the chance to impart collected snow-time proverbs, here are my collected snow-time proverb responses.

You wouldn’t be saying you miss the snow if you had to shovel it.

You talk like I‘ve forgotten. I assure you I haven’t. I mean, you can’t really forget this:

Waterford, CT, January 2011
I know, I know. It’s not me in that picture, but I promise I did some serious shovel time that day too.

Approximately two weeks after that photo was taken, we left on our trip to Iceland where we not only got a break from the cold and the shoveling, but also sympathy from Icelanders about the harsh weather we’d been experiencing back home. Apparently, our weather made news there. Then we came back home to it.

No, I have not forgotten how annoying it is to finish shoveling just for it to start snowing again. I have not forgotten the floods of tears I cried when I finished digging out the mailboxes just to have the damn plow come by and cover them again. I have not forgotten about the expert maneuvers required to pull my car out of the shared driveway because the neighbors couldn’t be bothered to clear their side nearly as well as we cleared ours, opting instead for some seriously dicked up parking jobs.

I haven’t forgotten and I still have the audacity to miss it.

But you get the best of both worlds! You really could just drive to the mountains.

First, that’s not entirely true. Those mountain passes do get a lot of snow. That means that those mountain passes often close. While you can still get to the snow line (ski resorts depend on this), you’d better have the right vehicle. I can put snow tires and chains on my Charger all I want; it’s still rear wheel drive and not built for snow. I always laugh at those Dodge commercials that have Chargers just a rippin’ through the snow like it’s nothing. I hold my car in higher regard than I hold most people, but I’ve seen romantic comedies more realistic than those commercials. Not only that, but those mountains are a bit further away than they appear. I’d have to drive at least an hour just to get to the weather people avoid driving in. Point is, it’s actually much less convenient for me to get to the mountains than one might assume.

And again, it’s just not the same. Part of the joy of snow—yes, I said it—the joy of snow, is sitting by your own window with a hot cup of tea (spiked or not), watching said snow come down. I miss that. I also miss the, “Oh, hell no!” look in my cat’s eyes when his little black paw touches a big white drift. I miss posting the obnoxious but obligatory Facebook picture of the winter wonderland. And yes, I even miss bitching about how damn much shoveling I’m about to do.

I guess the “grass is always greener.”

Yeah. That’s sort of the problem. You know where that green grass should be? Under snow, damn it!

Not under this:

This was our courtyard the other day. If only the temperature had dropped enough for this to freeze…free ice time!

I’m sure a clogged drain had as much to do with that accumulation as the rate of rainfall did, and I love rain as much as the next guy. No sarcasm. I really do love the rain, but this is just so not what I think of when I think of winter. Ned Stark promised us that winter was coming. Well, screw that Stark honor! Ned’s a damn liar!

This section comes with a bonus proverb. “Just imagine if all of that was snow!”

Again, that’s sort of the problem.

I am imagining that all of it is snow, and I miss it. I really, really miss it.