The Winter of Our Discontent

It has been a long winter in Wisconsin. Around Christmas and the New Year, I long for the quiet, dark days between January and the end of March. But then by April, I am so sick of my own company and the craft projects I was once so excited to work on when things finally slowed down, that I'm ready to climb a bell tower with a Nerf gun. I am so. over. winter. I feel kind of guilty about it since I have friends and family back home in Maine that MAY get summer on July 7th from 2:00-4:00 PM this year...IF they are  very, very lucky and the finorkin' snow. would. just. stop. But none-the-less, we (the royal we, doncha know) are neck deep in The Season of Grumpiness and Feeling Sorry for Ourselves.

I thought it was over a couple of weeks ago when the temps SOARED into the 50s, my crocuses woke up, the neighbors were out running around in their shorts and flip flops. In the spirit of true disclosure, most of them wear shorts all year round, but I digress.  The dreaded snow and cold came back earlier this week. After a week of being able to walk my three miles a day without body parts falling off and having a bit of heat in the car in less that 15 miles (work is about 12 miles away), it was over as soon as it began. I swear, the relapse of the Grumpy and Sorry for Ourselves disorder is even more dehabilitating than the original malaise!

I get elusive glimpses of spring which get my hopes up and then, like right this very minute, I look out the window and it's snowing. Again. Mother Earth hates me and does not want me to be happy. Maybe I should learn to embrace winter more. Let's look at my options:

• I could take up skiing, but those of you who know my propensity for mishap in the most elementary of situations would surely agree that strapping two slippery sticks to my feet and hurling myself off the side a mountain is probably not in my best interest. 
• I could take up ice fishing but I can't poke the worms. In the summer, I have been very successful with mini marshmallows and bits of Ballpark franks, but I'm not certain if the fish, who surely are also grumpy and feeling sorry for themselves from being iced in all winter, would be as receptive. Hot dogs and s'mores are more of a summer bait. 
• I used to love to skate, but the public skating rinks and large clear lakes here don't have the cattails and alder trees that I am used to from the swamp skating of my youth.  Kind of loses something without that challenge. 

I guess I'm going to have to just suck it up and just hang on by my fingernails 'til the sun comes out, we can move about the land freely, and I  can start complaining about the heat and humidity again. As well as starting a countdown to the cooler days of autumn and festivities of the holidays!

Until then...for those of you sporting a paddle in the same leaky vessel I'm in...