Being an unhappy New England native, what do I like the least… this endless winter in the Northeast. But if you really need to know, the thing I hate the most is snow. Never-ending shoveling is really getting old in these chilling winds and blistering cold. My back is broken, and I can’t feel my nose. Will it ever end… nobody knows.
What is the cause of all of our grief? Angrily freezing the world beneath. Someone somewhere is sinister and sick, cursing us with conditions so arctic. Mother Nature will tease us with a few 50-degree days, only to point and laugh in our face. While I am no meteorologist, I have a few theories of what causes this…
The Cold Truth…
For those of you who have only experienced snow in Christmas songs, let me tell you. They’re wrong. They lied to you, and the movies lied too. There is nothing joyous about dashing through the snow. You need to go slow. Dashing is not the way to go. That is dangerous, you know…
I don’t care about ICE, but wouldn’t it be nice if they deported Elsa back to Arendelle or at least put her in jail… Let it go, this ice and snow. Do I wanna build a snowman? No, man. Give me my summer, beaches, and sun. It won’t be a bummer; it will be fun.
Punxsutawney Phil gave us a dire forecast. His shadow tells us that winter will last. We will freeze for six more weeks, at least. That rodent weatherman knows better than to show his furry little face, because people are starting to wonder how groundhogs’ taste… While I would not wish harm or bad luck to a woodchuck, we have a history. Phil’s cousin Will chased me and caused me misery. The little bugger is faster than he looks, plotting revenge from his underground nook.
There is a tortured foe from Gotham City who wanted to make the world cold and windy. Mr. Freeze got bored tormenting Batman and Robin. So, he sent snow as high as my knees from Portland to Groton. He escaped through the blizzard like a sub-zero wizard. Just when Batman thought he had got ’em, he vanished back to the depths of Gotham.
He’s “Mister Icicle, he’s Mister Ten Below…” He is the miser who brought us this snow. Kids might disagree with me, but a year without Santa Claus seems more than reasonable for some weather that is more seasonal. I could go for some temps in the seventies or higher. We need to call his bro, the Heat Miser.
While I was shoveling a rhino’s weight in snow, I felt Jack Frost nipping at my nose. Jack is usually pretty chill, but lately he has been feeling ill. He gets very bold when he is fighting a cold. Be aware, and watch your derriere, frosty Jack just might start a snowball fight.
To my surprise, I could not believe my eyes. I certainly was not ready to come face-to-face with a yeti. The abominable snowman stood twelve feet high with two-inch fangs and beady red eyes. Something angered him as he shouted and shook the trees, causing clouds of snow flurries. I managed to escape back into my home before the yeti could feast on my bones. From my window, I watched him escape back into the snow as I sipped a mug of hot cocoa.
Harsh Reality…
While these theories might seem far-fetched to some, they are the reality of what we’ve become. Cold and delusional from frostbitten toes, from shoveling down avenues of snow. We have become a little tired and bitter from this never-ending, endless winter.
