I get it. You hate cold weather; a hatred that’s probably been only further magnified by winter continuing to linger like it is now in late March.
I’m sure many of you have recently stepped outside and flashed a McKayla Maroney-esque sneer similar to the one of my sister’s dog Layla in the pic above.
Like you, I’m fully aware that spring has officially arrived, so why isn’t the weather acting like it? Damn Mother Nature and that (Punxsutawney) Phil with his six more weeks of winter. Winter’s the worst, right?
Wrong. Per usual, I’m in the minority. As my friends and family know, I’m one of the seemingly few folks who genuinely loves cold weather. Winter and I are tight. In fact, if it weren’t for it not being light enough for morning runs, we’d be besties. But generally I’m a big fan of rocking my Patagonia jacket, holing up at Starbucks, couch surfing with my mags or a good book and piling on the blankets at night.
While many out here in Virginia don’t mind (but always find a reason to complain about) these soft winters with their lame quasi-cool temps and little to no snow, I personally can’t wait to move up north in the near future (Boston!) so I can bundle up, finally get into cross country skiing and occasionally score a snow day when a massive snowstorm like good ol’ Nemo hits.
Growing up in the Midwest, I miss my authentic winters, a fact I was reminded of this past weekend when my mom group messaged my sisters and I photos of the winter storm that dumped 15 inches on our small central Illinois town. The pics made me reminisce about snowfalls during our childhood and all of the good times we Burri and the neighbor kids had together.
In this spirit, and because my mom braved the snow and cared enough to send these shots, I thought I’d share them here on the blog. Enjoy!