We haven’t had snow in Chicago for quite a while.
Let me rephrase that.
We haven’t had snow on the ground that I’ve had to shovel in quite a while.
I miss my snow, weather, when are you going to bring it?
My shovel is wasted just resting there against the wall. I could be outside right now, heaving great big piles of snow and ice from my walks and brooming the snow off the top of garbage cans.
I could be circling the block in my car, looking for a parking space that isn’t camped with lawn furniture, buckets, homemade barricades and castle moats.
I could be scraping the ice from the windows of my car, replacing wiper blades in the falling snow, sweeping and pawing clumps of snow from the top of my car onto the ground.
The mailman could totally slip and break the mailman’s credo when she slips and falls on the ice formed when the giant icicles melt in the sun and freeze on my steps in the cold.
My gloves could be useful again.
My face could miss having a scarf.
I could wish for a parka.
All you have to do is snow.