I Don't Do Snow

I'm from Florida. I've spent one wintry week in Texas. I've come to the conclusion...I don't do snow.

Don't get me wrong, it's lovely...in pictures or looking out the window (from a well-heated room). I suppose if I grew up in it, I'd think differently. Think of all the fun I'm missing. Breaking my legs skiing or breaking my neck ice skating.

Well, I don't have to break my neck skating; I can do that just walking through a parking lot (pick one). I'll admit, for one morning, one blessed morning, the snow looked nice. I'd go so far to say, beautiful even. We took pictures. "Look, it's snowing."

Then it stopped being nice for 4 days. Cars slid off the road driving 20mph. Snow in the street morphed into slush, the slush morphed into something resembling black fungus. Wouldn't you know it, 4 days later, all the snow had melted except these chunks of black fungus.

Drove past a good number of snowy fields (slowly). Didn't see a single horse-drawn carriage ridden by cheerful people singing wintry wonderland songs. It does make a great scene for a holiday card. Who'd want to buy a card of a shopper falling on his butt at Wal-Mart, as he slipped on a chunk of snowy black fungus.

Okay, snow lovers...let me have it.