Its a Marshmallow World
I hate snow I hate snow. My mom certainly taught me that. I didn't understand it until I started driving. Even then, I loved snow, I just hated the driving. When Jenny and I were first dating--during the massive blizzard of December 1990--I loved the snow. I remember walking in a literal blizzard with my BoSox hat on at 45th and Roosevelt. Near whiteout conditions, a gusting wind blew my hat into the intersection, and the wind chill keeping the temperature in the single digits didn't stop me from walking to a date at the Last Exit,to drink mocha floats and then later making snow angels, the two of us basking in the bloom of new love. That was then. I have, upon reflection, hated the snow since the kids were little. I hate the cold. It just fucks with my life too much. After my mom died, a snowstorm came which forced us to cancel her memorial service. I had scheduled it to take place at a Unitarian Church in North Seattle...