Winter Wonderland

"Good morning, sunshine!" beamed our resident Maestro as he greeted me in the hall of the Towers. Noticing my rather subdued smile he remarked. "You don't like the snow, do you?"

"Not anymore..., I am just waiting for someone to bitch about why our parking lot is not clear, dry and warm as one in Florida might be."

He is right, I do not like the snow. Oh How I used to love it as a kid. I could watch it fall for hours, covering the stark and dirty landscape with fluffy powder. To see it pristine and pure was a pleasure. I could not wait to get in it, get the sled out and sled down the hill between Midden's and Tapp's, our path leading us in between the snow crested trees. Crunching through the icy snow pack in the fields looking for deer and birds and the occasional fox and gleaning the field for a scrap of corn for the squirrels. What fun.

But with age comes responsibility. Now, instead of watching it with pleasure, I realize I have to scrape it, shovel it, remove it, get with the snow removal people to be sure they get everything right to please the nuts in the Towers (they never do), ice melt it and make sure the garage door closes properly.

THEN: make sure they have shoveled the drive wide enough for Mr F to get his precious car out and make sure the same referenced car does not touch snow as he pays too much to live here to have to shovel snow away from his car. PLUS make sure Mrs F doesn't think everyone else's car was cleaned off and not hers because she is black. Shovel the back walk off as some think they are back door people rather than front door and insist on using the back entrance to the lot (saves snow on the carpet I guess).

They will expect their newspaper to be brought in too.

Sorry, I can not do anything about the temperature outside. Have a nice day...keep in touch.