I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…

This is a rant – not much science-y stuff here. Not much literary prowess either. Rant below the fold. 

My birthday is in April, and when I was growing up in New Hampshire, I remember, in high school, always hoping that there wouldn’t be snow on the ground on my birthday.

It’s not because I didn’t like winter – I did, and still do – just that every good winter leaves you looking forward to spring by the end of it – it’s one of the delights of living in a temperate climate.

When I spent a fall semester in Tanzania, in college, I found myself feeling really odd, because I was missing the turn of the seasons. As far as my subconscious was concerned, I hit August, and then the summer just kept on going, through September, through the Halloween party where I was in denial about my malaria, through November, right up until I got off the plane in New England and walked out into the frigid December air, with flakes of snow from a recent storm still drifting around.

It was a really strange experience.

That was in 2006. Now, in 2011, it’s December, and I’m making plans for Christmas parties, and buying presents, and all that stuff, and I’m feeling, again, like something’s wrong. When I was in New Hampshire for Thanksgiving, I saw a forsythia blooming. For those of you who don’t know, forsythia usually blooms around my birthday. In April. When the snow is almost completely gone.

Just tonight, I biked to Harvard Square to meet with a friend for a drink, and some much-needed catching up, and on the way back, I thought, “man, this fleece I wore isn’t warm enough – this rain is really cold” and as soon as I got home, I hopped, shivering a little, into my fleece bathrobe.

The thing is – it’s RAINING. Except for that snowstorm in October, rain has been the extent of my winter weather, so far, and I’m pissed, to be honest. I like winter. I like being warm when it’s LITERALLY freezing outside. I like shoveling snow, now and again. I like seeing the footprints that tell me what animals have been through the area since it snowed, and what they were up to. I like watching my dog frolic in the snow, and not just because it tires her out. I like winter.

And so far, I’m not getting it. Not to be snooty or anything, but if I wanted the extend of my winter gear to be an umbrella and waterproof shoes, I’d probably move to London.

My previous posts about Christmas are still relevant to today.  There are MANY different reasons to bring up Christmas and the whole holiday season when talking about climate change (or to bring up climate change when talking about the holidays).

Right now, however, I’m just pissed that I have yet to be able to watch my dog’s husky half come out and frolic.

To quote Calvin, “If I was in charge, we’d never see grass between October and May.”

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