My ode to despising locked molecular patterned H20 (snow)

Waking to 8 inches of snow, hoping that the mink oil I’ve worked into my leather boots keeps moisture at bay, and donning thick scarves and wool coats. Winter is here, in grand fashion. The winter storm Brutus touched down last night, and is still wreaking havoc on the roads. Hopefully tomorrow they are a little more clear so that I can drive home without too much trouble.

I have already been told by three people today I’m in the wrong place if I don’t enjoy snow and winter. I tell every single one of them the phrase that immediately silences them: “In. State. Tuition”. It works like a charm. Trust me, you mountain loving plebeians, if I had my choice I would be migrating south after the first frost! This weekend there is  a concert complete with a ceremonial burning effigy of a snow god to entice snow to come to the mountains for the remainder of the year. Last year I attended a rap concert after an ice storm- it took us almost 40 minutes to walk to Main Street. I wore snow boots up to my knees and so many layers I think my shape resembled a marshmallow with two denim pegs sticking out.

Winter here doesn’t mess around. Although, it’s supposed to be nearly 50 degrees by Tuesday, so perhaps things may improve quickly. One must hope.


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