Today Is Thursday . . . Thursday, Ninth Circle of Hell

Really now, snow. Again? Are the masters of weather unaware that we've already had snow. And lots of it? That snow Has Been Done. A lot. That snow is so very last year?

I don't know if I've mentioned it readers, but I'm over it. Winter. As a whole. And I don't believe I'm judging too quickly. I've "done" winter since 1999. A good, wait, let me tease out this calculation, is that eight? Yes. Eight. Eight years of my life. Eight winters, my people.

And this is the worst. Of the winters I've had. At least.

The first seven winters were enchanting. And the snow, even the one today, still holds a certain wonder and promise. The world completely and utterly transforms, hides, retreats, under this shimmery, pure blanket that at once comforts, smothers, haunts, forebodes, and promises.

But man, my toes. And my hands. And Bears bloody noses. And my toes. We just can't seem to shake the chill. And that's without even going outside.

Kansas City also has the nasty habit of laying down a layer of ice before it brings on its blanket of snow, so that when you clear the drive or the sidewalk, you're met with a rather butt-busting surprise. And I mean butt-busting in the not good way.

We're supposed to get more snow tonight. So I figure you'll either read more whiny posts from me in the next couple--or I'll suck it up and sled out my frustrations into the whirligig of this Dantesque (yes, I just -esqued and made a literary allusion) winter.