No Snow Winter

A few winters ago, sandwiched between two so-much-snow-we-nearly-drowned winters, there was a No Snow Winter. It was a cruelty, really, because I know that forever more I will be hoping for another and likely it was a unicorn of a winter - seen once and set to become a myth forever more (I know unicorns exist out them somewhere). This morning it technically snowed, but because I didn't have to dig my car out of my driveway it doesn't count (that's how American I am now), so there is still hope. 

I hate snow. 

Actually, I don't hate snow. I love snow - provided all of the following are true, with no exceptions:

- I don't have to shovel it

- I don't have to drive in it

- I don't have to park in it

- I'm wearing appropriate footwear

- There's a fire waiting for me inside the second I get cold

- Hot Toddies and/or mulled wine are within reach

- It doesn't turn to a slushy grey sludge of despair

- It remains fluffy and white and perfect looking

- I do not have to go to work

- I do not have to shovel (said already, but it bears repeating)

- There's no danger of it caving in our roof 

- Snow ploughs do not make their horrendous grinding scraping noise on the tarmac

- I remain warm or I get just cold enough to make sitting by the fire and drinking mulled wine a joy and not a    resuscitatory necessity 

Given that none of the above are usually true and all are untrue whenever it really snows, I'm gonna go ahead and maintain that snow is the worst and I invite you to join my campaign for a No Snow Winter. If you ski and hate me right now, don't worry - it's welcome to snow in NH or ME or anywhere I do not need to be in the next 4 months. FOUR MONTHS. If only hibernation were a real possibility. Ugh.