It's January 12.
And there's no snow on the ground in the Tundra.
This leads to some pissed off people in these parts.
Fisherman who are used to being out in their ice houses drinking Grainbelts are instead stuck at home on the couch drinking Grainbelts.
Soccer moms who are used to escaping their daily stress of work/kids/home through cross country skiing on the many beautifully groomed trails are instead escaping to the gym and working out on the treadmill.
Guys who would be heading out to hit the lakes and woods "up nort" on their sleds (snowmobiles to the non-Tundra people) are instead riding their bikes (motorcycle to the non-hipster people) around the lakes in the woods "up nort."
Hockeyheads who typically would be out on the many lakes playing pond hockey are instead forced to pay big money for ice time at the many indoor rinks to play old-time hockey.
And C_O's of companies all over Eden Prairie are upset that their golf trips to southern Florida or Mexico are looking less hipster now that golf courses throughout Minnesota are open.
Yep. There's a lot of pissy peeps in the state of Minnesnowta.
But not this guy.
I'm happy as hell, even with the 13 degree temperature as I drove home tonight, to not have to fend with snow and ice on my daily commute.
Chalk it up to when I rolled my car roughly a year ago, during a light snowfall.
And the fact that snow/ice usually doubles or triples my commute time.
After last winter, which ended up in the top 5 of all time for snowfall in the Twin Cities since they started keeping records, I will take a brown Winter.
You know it's a bad Winter when the people who were BORN in Minnesota complained. "Oh this is even a bit much for me, youbetcha!"
That was SO last Winter.
So excuse me if I don't shed a tear for the snow-loving freaks I call my neighbors THIS Winter.
If the current temperatures of 30 and below disappear in a week, and don't return, I'll do my happy dance.
Hell, in fact I enjoy it so much, I'm encouraging everyone I know to buy an SUV, to stop recycling, and to leave open cans of baked beans in cow pastures everywhere. Even IF my father insists I have a mancrush on Al Gore.
And with that note, I will end this blog entry.
Because I know that at this point, Mother Nature is about to bring karma back on my ass and show me she's The Boss.
I'll see you in May, when the snow melts here.