the night on which i realize that i don't HATE winter.

i hate winter.
seriously.  i lie to myself all summer long and tell myself i love the idea of 4 very absolutely positively distinct seasons.  lie lie lie LIE.

and then at the very first moment of a snowfall ... i remember that there is oh-so-much to very much dislike about living where i do.

it's cold.

there's SNOW.

not just a bit of snow.

lots of snow.

and the driving on ice sucks.

superty bigtime.

and then?

sometimes.  everyone in my family falls asleep ... including the husband.

and i walk outside ... because now the job of taking the dog out has fallen onto my shoulders too.

and i see this.

and this ...

and catch a glimpse of this.

 and i start to do crazy things like this.

while holding a camera outside as the snowflakes land upon my lashes at rather late an hour ...

and i realize that maybe HATE is too strong a word.

because there really is something ok about late at night when the world doesn't seem quite so dark with a blanket of white snow.

(dear anymommy.  i promise.  i'll still move to somewhere warm with you.  because tomorrow might be a whole 'nother story.  love me.)