Hating-winter-can-become-a-tradition-too

by Sarah Miley

STAFF WRITER

I have boycotted Valentine's Day and winter for that matter.

When my husband and I were dating, our first Valentine's Day was canceled by about six inches of snow. I was attending Utah State University in Logan and we were separated by a snow-closed Sardine Canyon -- which is gorgeous in every season except in winter.

So instead of going on a romantic dinner, and giving and receiving ridiculously overpriced gifts, I worked at the bakery I worked at all through college. I frosted heart-shaped sugar cookies, covered them with red sprinkles, and handed them to customers who were going to take these cookies to their sweethearts -- all the while feeling sorry for myself because I had no one to spend Valentine's Day with.

The next Valentine's Day, it snowed again. That was the last straw, and thus began our own tradition of boycotting Valentine's Day.

Perhaps that's where my pure hatred of winter and its ensuing conditions comes from. In high school, I remember skiing or snowboarding every weekend, tubing down the steep hill in my parent's backyard and having winter hot dog and marshmallow roasts in the fire pit.

But I no longer have any excitement or desire to suffer in the snow or the cold by choice.

For the past month, there have been at least several snowstorms a week, including a massive windstorm with blizzard-like conditions. I don't remember last winter in Tooele being nearly as bad as this one. When temperatures do creep up into the 40s -- gasp! -- I begin to think, "Maybe this terrible season is over?" And then, like clockwork, the next day 4 inches of snow falls onto my driveway and I trudge out with the snow shovel.

In addition to making driving, which I usually enjoy, a total nightmare, winter almost ruined my Super Bowl.

On Super Bowl Sunday -- go Giants -- I awoke to a blizzard outside. And even though the big game was hours and hours away, I was already worried about the picture going out because of the accumulating snow on the satellite dish atop the roof.

During the course of the game, the TV picture would flicker and freeze, turning the players into little pixelated boxes. Everyone would look at each other, wide-eyed, ready to jump into cars and head over to someone else's house.

During college my friends and I would often go to "I hate winter" parties, donning shorts, brightly colored T-shirts, and flip flops. It wasn't uncommon to see people in swimming suits at these parties either. We were all sick of below-freezing temperatures for several weeks straight, and this was our way of sticking it to Mother Nature -- not that it worked, but I think it made us feel better.

It's time for winter to give up the ghost. Snowpack is well-above average in the county, so enough already. Through my office window on Main Street, I often see cars struggling to pull out of the road to the side of the post office after dropping off a letter in the drive-up box. I see people sliding on icy sidewalks, layered like cakes in sweaters, coats, gloves and scarves. They too look exhausted with the season.

I am ready for spring. I got a bike for Christmas and it's just been waiting for me to use it. And when it's 100 degrees -- as I know it inevitably will be someday -- I promise I won't complain once about the heat. If I do, you have permission to pinch me.

For those of you who are saying, "If you don't like winter, move someplace else," to you I say I love Utah, and Tooele County -- at least for nine months of the year.

swest@tooeletranscript.com