I never quite understood the fascination with winter, with snow, with sub zero temps. People actually CHOOSE to live here in Northern New England, even if there's a choice for a balmier climate. You know, Tennessee. Virginia.
Someone suggested to me that we did seem to obsess about wood. As I recall, I pointed out that when you burn the stuff for close to nine months, spend the other three or four or five cutting, splitting, stacking, and negotiating over it with wood deliverers, it tends to crop up in convo quite frequently:
"get your wood in yet?"
"Nahh, threw my back out last week, hard to throw wood leanin' on a cane, yep"
"How much you burn last winter, anyway?"
"Considering the early cold and the late snow, just about everything back to the walls. Mebbe 13 cords, mebbe less."
"Yep, now I have to it do it all over again this year..."
Possibly, too, because burning wood is such a personal experience, I mean, you're right there with it, every step of the way--if you have gas or oil the delivery truck pulls up regularly, fills the tanks and drives away. Your only concern is finding the checkbook. After that, it's thermostat time.
But I seriously wonder why people, when they have the chance, move NORTH instead of South...and then are surprised, open-mouth awestruck, when they look out the window one morning to see two feet of snow. Like, it never happened before or something...
But there are perks to all of this. One of them is watching newcomers learn how to drive sideways on icy roads.
Or explaining why the 6" of new snow doesn't just disappear in a day or two "like it does in Tennessee..."
Or showing them what a roof rake is and why you really do need to clean off that roof NOW...
I know a man who buys a new plastic shovel every time it snows, because he always forgets and puts his used shovel away once he's cleaned the driveway. In the shed. The one where the snow drifts in and plugs the door shut.