When it's this cold outside

The windchill in Boston this morning is something like negative 16 farenheit.  Brrrr.  This is totally what one would want to expect in Boston, though.  After all, what good would New England winters be (and all the lore around it, from something about Walden Pond to something about ski towns that want to secede from the States) without a couple of shots and blasts of Arctic cold?  And besides, it has been much too warm this winter, even though it's snowed a bit.  Winters back in the day were always colder and snowier... oh wait, I think that's my "bare foot walks in the snow uphill bothways" gene starting to kick in.

Seriously, though, crisp cold weather makes me daydream on the way to the bus stop.  I love breathing out of my mouth to try to form a little smokestack--a throw back to being 5 or 6 or so--and all the while, conjure up the warm, green thoughts of how distant and askew summer time and canobie lake rollercoasters and cranes beach seashores fade in my head.  The cold and the walk make me appreciate the MBTA bus when it shows up, even if it is late.  The walk in the cold makes me second think the whole iPod and sappy music thing because (a) the earphone chord seems to freeze on up, and (b) missy elliot and nelly furtado and other booty-shaking music works a lot better.

Snow's coming, too.  Snow.  And with that, the crisp cold bright sunny morning seems just perfect in my mind, because I know that tomorrow (or really the day after), I'll be hauling ass trying to shovel the longest driveway in Charlestown.  Yay!