I'm not sure if it's a family thing, a regional thing or a Canadian thing but it seems I've had the bug most of my life regardless of where it comes from. Don't tell Melissa, but as long as we're prepared ahead of time, the worse the weather is, especially in the winter, the better I like it, at least up to a point.
The first time I had this thought I was seven years old, and I was holding on to my grandfathers hand very tightly during one of our winter blizzards. We were heading to the barn to check on the cows and the wind was gusting hard enough that without a secure handhold it was literally lifting me off my feet and blowing me away. When we got to the barn I pulled back my hood to find grandpa smiling and laughing which exactly matched my mood. After chores were done, we lollygagged our way back to the house with grandpa holding both my arms and letting the wind catch under my coat. At times when the wind caught me right I was completely horizontal and I thought it was great !
Melissa thinks I can handle a lot of cold weather and compared to her I can, but I'm not even in the same league as grandpa or dad. In addition to not wearing anything more than a light jacket or a vest even in the dead of an Ontario winter, neither one ever wore gloves or mitts. Many times I have stood quietly and miserably freezing when I was wearing two layers for each one of theirs.
I'm a big fan of squeaky snow and frozen earth on calm, clear, cold winter nights. This far south, these sorts of nights are rare as hen's teeth, but every couple of years we'll get one and when we do it's my turn to be a kid again !
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