I'm sure I’m going to jinx it just by saying it but, here goes: I love a brown winter.
Knowing I don’t have to get up two hours early just to be able to make it out of the driveway is comforting. So, too, is avoiding the daily search for caps, gloves and scarves.
As much as I enjoy eating everything in the kitchen to bulk up before heading out, I don’t have to wear sweaters into July just to cover the Winnie the Pooh gut I gained.
Bolstering my case: The money I save on sidewalk salt, antifreeze, windshield scrapers (which I always lose), boots, shovels and Kleenex.
I know the sad plight of snowmobile drivers when there isn’t a lot of snow and I’m sure Cone Park’s snow-making machines have had to work overtime. But it’s really nice to drive a clean car, not have to maneuver a glacial ridge at the end of the driveway and head home at night without fear of someone sliding into you.
Brown winters are also good for exercise -- if you happen to like that sort of thing. Walking isn’t a bone-threatening task when the snow is gone. (Oh, sure, it could be if you were clumsy, but let’s not stray.) Now, instead of executing a double axel with a twist, you can walk confidently down the street without fear of Russian judging bias.
Shopping is easier, too. Instead of “warming up the car” (a skill I learned in North Dakota), you can jump in, head out and get where you need to be without a 30-minute scrape-a-thon. You don’t have freak when you get on cold car seats, either. When your organs don’t seize from the temperature, you’re in a much better mood and you don’t have to wonder why you didn’t add one more layer before getting this far.
Sure, experts say cold weather helps "freeze" germs, but I'd rather take my chances with hand sanitizer than wonder if blue fingers means I've got frostbite.
I also like a phone that works when I'm outside and fingers that can text.
Additionally, warm winters make mundane chores bearable.
Pumping gas in brown winters, for example, makes you consider things like the price of fuel, the weird people in the car next to you and the thrill of a Powerball win. When temps are frigid and the snow is stacked so high you can’t even see the kid manning the cash register, you can’t light a single pipe dream.
“Let’s go out tonight” becomes an invitation, not a death threat,, and soup becomes a complement, not the main course of a meal.
During a brown winter, meteorologists don’t control your life. Schools can’t call “early outs.” Sporting events don’t get canceled.
Sure, you might not be able to build a snowman in your front yard or speculate about the amount of watering you won't need to do next spring. But that pales in comparison to all the joys that come with a mild winter.
You can plan trips that don't involve "alternate routes." You can putter in the garage. You can wear glasses without fear of them frosting over.
Heck, you might even be able to take down the Christmas lights before Easter.
If this mild winter keeps up, dare to dream.