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Just about everybody I know in various mountain towns,
including my own Salida in the middle of Colorado, has
remarked upon the severity of this winter. Those who ski,
or who get their livelihood from skiers, may profess to
enjoy it, and just about everybody says Well, the
moisture will be good to have come spring run-off,
but
you can tell that they're struggling to find something nice
to say.
Doubtless there are mathematical methods, based on years of National Weather Service statistics, to determine just how this winter ranks with such criteria as average daily snow depth, average wind velocity, mean daily high and low temperatures, etc. But most of us, I suspect, have come up with other ways to tell:
·When you go to your woodpile in the morning, you take a broom with you. Some days, you have to go back and get a shovel. On the worst days, you look for your pick-axe.
·A day that gets a few degrees above freezing seems almost tropical, and you feel liberated when you venture outside wearing neither hat nor hood, although you still wear your coat.
·You are especially nice to the neighbor who has a snow-blower.
·Although you generally try to be a good environmentalist who minimizes your carbon footprint, you let your car idle for a few minutes in the morning because if you don't get it warm before you take off, your breath will fog the windshield to the degree that you need your ice scraper to clear it. Plus, when it has just started and is running on fast idle, it goes too fast for control on your icy street.
·You panic when you go to plug in your car's tank heater at night and can't find the extension cord under the snow; when it emerges, it's embedded in ice.
·The last time you were drinking with friends, the conversation turned to the relative merits of wool vs. polypropylene vs. silk long underwear.
·You finally dig out and make a supply run to the supermarket, only to discover that its delivery truck couldn't get there.
·The same municipal water department that is always telling you to conserve water now tells you to leave a tap running around the clock, lest the water meters freeze up.
·You put on insulated coveralls just to take out the trash.
·When you start to slip on a mountain road, you wonder whether the coroner will find you before June.
·When someone asks what you'd like for your birthday or Valentine's Day or the like, you tell them to check the Carhartt website.
·You have hardened your heart to your dog's eager pleas to go for a walk when the wind-chill factor is below zero.
·You're glad you kept that silly scarf that your aunt knitted for you years ago.
·At the clothing store, you ask for a hat like
the one Marge Gunderson wore in the movie 'Fargo,'
and
the clerk says they're sold out and on back-order.
·You start repeating what you heard from an
old-timer when you moved to your town years ago: The
mountains are a good place to live, as long as you know how
to get through the winter without money or fresh
vegetables.
·You used to talk about how we need a good
old-time hard winter to chase out the spoiled
lightweights,
and now you realize you've turned into
one.
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