Dysfunctional Winter

Growing up in New England, we'd get so much snow that we'd often have our driveway plowed by a front-end loader. The resulting mountains of snow became our playground for the rest of the winter. We'd dig out forts and spend hours in there amassing stockpiles of snowballs that we'd unleash on passing motorists. Our secret weapon? We'd pack each snowball around a chewy nougat center of horse manure. A pile of frozen tootsie poops, if you will.

Or, sometimes we'd just hide in the fort to make out with girls. Yeah, chicks really dug the manure trick.

These days though, large portions of New England might go through the entire month of January without any snowfall. I'm thinking Old Man Winter could use some of the "enhancement drugs" whose advertisements dominate my email inbox, under subject lines like "Separate Yourself From Other Men". (When what they really mean is "function like a normal man". Hey, thanks for the considerate email reminder.)

Anyway, the weather around here lately is like a dream come true - like Spring without the hassle of fertilizing, planting, mowing and cleaning. Sign me up for that! Still, a part of me feels empty when we begin downsizing the activities of Winter. Like tabletop snowmen. Hey, you take what you can get, and make the best of it.

Now THERE is a dude who could use some "enhancement". I feel your pain, Frosty.