Stab winter for St. Patty.

I am very ready for winter to be over.  I generally like it.  There are past instances on this blog where I was angry at a lack of winter.  I like wearing sweaters and flannel and cuddling up with the Mrs at night to watch movies, read and sleep.  Cycling when water freezes to your face is exhilarating, if for no other reason, for the looks of amazement you get from other people.  Longjohns are their own unique experience when you have them on under your work pants with nothing under them.

Maybe it’s barreling downhill for four miles every morning and getting watery eyes from the wind or my being tired of not being able to wear sandals sans socks.  Or of coming home from community meetings at seven or eight in the dark.  Maybe I’m tired of the bleak landscape on my way to work through the Jones Falls Valley and out of my window on University Parkway.  But I’m really ready for spring now.

I haven’t actually gotten tired of winter since 2003, when I lived in Boston and didn’t blog yet.  It was a particularly bad winter, full of blizzards and April snow.  St. Patty’s day that year was 70 degree weather, with students at Boston College sitting around talking in tanktops next to mountains of snow still piled up.  I remember wearing flip-flops and crunching on snow that April and wearing a jacket in May and June a few times.

There was snow on the ground two years ago for St. Patty’s Day, too, after a January that was so warm that plants were budding the week after New Year’s Day.  I guess it could be worse.  I get to work from home this morning for afternoon meetings and can probably get away with sandals later, if I’m willing to have cold feet, which I am.

I have a fridge full of Irish stout, cabbage, homemade soda bread from the Mrs and Irish music.  What, you haven’t heard the new U2 album yet?  It’s excellent.