Spring snow? Yes, please.

Anyone remember that Pollyanna thing I did a while back, where I wrote every day for 30 days about something I'm thankful for, or something that makes me happy?  I've decided it's time for a repeat.  Sort of.  I started a series of "Sorry I'm not sorry" posts and never really kept them going.  I was flooded with letters and emails from fans who were mourning the death of that series.  Yeah, that's so not true, but at least a couple of people mentioned that they missed reading those posts.  I've missed writing them.  I've let trivial matters like motherhood and romance and a paycheck and bills and sleep and sanity keep me from my passion in life:  snark as an art form.

So, for at least the next 30 days, I'm back at it.

Today's topic:  the weather.  

I have a love affair with Utah's weather.  I simply do not understand all the complaining I hear from long-time residents of this beautiful state.  It usually starts some time in February:

"Enough with the snow already!"

"Why does it have to be so cold?"

"Will I ever see the sun again? If I don't see the sun, I just know I'm going to DIE!"

Granted, I've only lived here through three winters now, but so far it's been the same experience every year:

Winter comes.  The temperatures drop.  Snow falls.  Snow stays for a while.  We all enjoy a white Christmas.   We sled.  We ski.  We build snowmen.  We throw snowballs and laugh.  We make snow angels.  Little boys pee their names in freshly-fallen powder.  Holidays are over.  Everyone wants the snow to go away.  March comes and snow and rain continue to fall.

Side note:  March is known as Utah's wettest month.  People probably assume that it's because of the amount of precipitation that falls from the sky.  But I believe March is known as the wettest month because of the FLOOD of complaints that come POURING on to Facebook and out of people's mouths about our "miserable" weather.

April comes along.  Tulips bloom.  Everything blooms.  I had never seen so much color until I moved to this beautiful state.  May...June...July...warm days and gorgeous nights.  Summer ends.  Fall comes and all of the colors that come with it.  Crisp temps, shorter days, orange and gold leaves, pumpkins, scarecrows, Halloween.  Then winter returns and the cycle repeats itself.

So how is it that, after only living here for three years, I seem to be the only one who sees that there really, truly is hope for the end of winter and the beginning of balmy weather?  Yes, we will see the sun again.  Yes, the temperatures will warm up.  Yes, the snow will stop and it will all melt and bring us those rivers we love to picnic by and those blossoms we love to smell.

In other words, it will all be okay.  Winter is not the end of the world as we know it.  Everybody take a deep breath.

It's snowing today.  My kids are out playing in it.  I LOVE spring snow.  It coats everything in white for a few hours, then the temps warm up and it's gone as quickly as it got here.

Having come from the hell on earth known as the southwest desert, I can tell you that all of this variety makes me do a happy dance.  I no longer need to keep oven mitts in my car to avoid having my fingerprints permanently melted off into the steering wheel.  I get to hear weather reports with words OTHER THAN "hot," "unseasonably hot," "record drought," and "spontaneous human combustion warning in effect until midnight."

Variety is the spice of life.  If the weather was what some call "perfect" all of the time, something tells me we'd still find ways to be unhappy about it.

I love the spring, summer, and fall weather just as much as the next person, but I love the snow, too.  I know that I annoy the snot out of the locals when I get all giddy about the snow...yes, even the spring snow.  I do it on purpose.  Some people scrapbook for fun. I enjoy annoying people.

Sorry I'm not sorry.