Faithful readers have long heard me lament about my ancestors' inability to settle in warmer climes. Noooo, my stupid forefathers decided to prove they were of heartier stock, and settled smack in the middle of blizzard country. The only decent thing they did was put down roots in Connecticut, which is practically balmy compared to Maine. However, as this past week reminded me, it's still cold in Connecticut for eight months out of the year, and we get a lot of snow.
Fresh off of New Year's Day, the powers that be (yup, I blame God and Scot Haney) decided to dump some more snow on us here in New England. I was not amused. Instead of relaxing on my day off, I now had to make beef stew and bake cookies, because being a good New England girl, that's what I was trained to do when it snows. I spent my day in the kitchen, wishing I lived down South, where surely I would be lounging by the pool and drinking mimosas. Instead, I was trapped in the house with a tub full of water, not for lounging in but just in case the power went out and I needed water to flush the toilet. Also, I couldn't even *pretend* that I was somewhere tropical, because the only mixer I had for the champagne was hot chocolate. Have I mentioned I hate New England?
It snowed into the early hours of Friday, and when we woke up, Jason began shoveling. I had to go into the basement with my hairdryer because a couple of pipes had frozen solid. I sat there in my flannel jammies, aimed the hairdryer at the pipes next to the wall, and read a book.
Once the water started flowing again, I made myself some coffee, and waited for Jason. He came in and announced that my car battery was dead and one of my tires was nearly flat. Figures. We tried to jump it with his car, failed, and called AAA. We waited for six hours for them to arrive, and in six seconds, they had the car running again. None of this, you realize, would ever have happened if we lived in, say, South Carolina.
I suppose I should count my blessings. For instance, I hear that down south, they have a problem with newts and other various lizards getting into their homes. Seeing as I disturbed a family of mice and no less than sixteen wolf spiders to get to the frozen pipe, I really don't see how a few cute little geckos in the house are a problem. But maybe they are. Maybe Southerners get tired of the lizards trying to sell them insurance all the time. At least the mice in our home mostly just poop and run away.
Also, in the warmer states, they spend a lot of money keeping their homes air conditioned year-round. I'm sure that costs a pretty penny. Although not as much as electric heat, which is what we have, and which we turn on in October and keep running through June. I hate you, Southerners!
I should remember that some people get a lot of enjoyment out of snow. I've actually heard others comment that a blanket of snow is rather beautiful, though I've always chalked that up to crazy talk. Plus, my nephews told me today that they were out sledding and building snowmen. My sister came on the line and told me she couldn't talk long because she was using her hairdryer to combat the frostbite on the boys' fingers and toes, but hey, as long as they had fun.
New England: cold, snowy, and we're a notoriously unfriendly population. Remind me again why I live here?
Fresh off of New Year's Day, the powers that be (yup, I blame God and Scot Haney) decided to dump some more snow on us here in New England. I was not amused. Instead of relaxing on my day off, I now had to make beef stew and bake cookies, because being a good New England girl, that's what I was trained to do when it snows. I spent my day in the kitchen, wishing I lived down South, where surely I would be lounging by the pool and drinking mimosas. Instead, I was trapped in the house with a tub full of water, not for lounging in but just in case the power went out and I needed water to flush the toilet. Also, I couldn't even *pretend* that I was somewhere tropical, because the only mixer I had for the champagne was hot chocolate. Have I mentioned I hate New England?
It snowed into the early hours of Friday, and when we woke up, Jason began shoveling. I had to go into the basement with my hairdryer because a couple of pipes had frozen solid. I sat there in my flannel jammies, aimed the hairdryer at the pipes next to the wall, and read a book.
Once the water started flowing again, I made myself some coffee, and waited for Jason. He came in and announced that my car battery was dead and one of my tires was nearly flat. Figures. We tried to jump it with his car, failed, and called AAA. We waited for six hours for them to arrive, and in six seconds, they had the car running again. None of this, you realize, would ever have happened if we lived in, say, South Carolina.
I suppose I should count my blessings. For instance, I hear that down south, they have a problem with newts and other various lizards getting into their homes. Seeing as I disturbed a family of mice and no less than sixteen wolf spiders to get to the frozen pipe, I really don't see how a few cute little geckos in the house are a problem. But maybe they are. Maybe Southerners get tired of the lizards trying to sell them insurance all the time. At least the mice in our home mostly just poop and run away.
Also, in the warmer states, they spend a lot of money keeping their homes air conditioned year-round. I'm sure that costs a pretty penny. Although not as much as electric heat, which is what we have, and which we turn on in October and keep running through June. I hate you, Southerners!
I should remember that some people get a lot of enjoyment out of snow. I've actually heard others comment that a blanket of snow is rather beautiful, though I've always chalked that up to crazy talk. Plus, my nephews told me today that they were out sledding and building snowmen. My sister came on the line and told me she couldn't talk long because she was using her hairdryer to combat the frostbite on the boys' fingers and toes, but hey, as long as they had fun.
New England: cold, snowy, and we're a notoriously unfriendly population. Remind me again why I live here?
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