Dear winter,


Caleb Miller

Snow piles up outside LHS, as it tends to do for nine months out of the year.

Caleb Miller, Staff Writer

Dear winter,

It was great to see you for the first six minutes of October. Since then, I’d rather you’d take your blizzard advisories and shove them back where they came from (I assume that’s Canada or something).

You must be very proud of yourself, surprising all those nordic kids with your 15 snow days. Keep in mind that most of them got their tongues stuck on flagpoles when they were in the fourth grade, so you might want to reevaluate their opinions. Even though we seem to live in the only polar vortex area south of the Canadian border, it would still be much appreciated if you could take a day off and quit stalling my car so I can make it to Spanish on time.

I’d also like to acknowledge the fact that even though we can replay Sammy Cahn’s “Let it Snow” song on our Christmas playlist 47 times and see nothing but dead plants outside, it’s classic how you always remember to take a dump on us the minute we get on I-29 on the way home. Getting snowed in so that I could go spend another three days with my five-year old cousin really was the thing I needed to top off my Christmas season.

Speaking of seasons, that whole week in January that I stayed home with the flu was fantastic. I only wish I could go back to the days where all I did was cough, blow my nose and ask for the homework. Since the sun goes down at 3:30, I really enjoy being reminded that once the winter solstice hits, I’ll be under a blanket of clouds for the next four months.

My favorite part, and I’m sure everyone else will agree, is how much more “interesting” you make my walk from the car to the admin doors each day. Who needs entertainment when you can slip every four feet on your run in to make the 8:20 bell? Furthermore, scraping ice off my windshield for 15 minutes in 10 below weather is something I’m not sure I could live without. Plus once you’re done scraping, there’s that five star ride where the seat heater won’t actually get warm until you pull into the parking lot and get right back out into the Alaskan wilderness.

So, even though I find it amusing that I got to shovel the five feet of snow that my Dad had the brilliant idea of scraping off our roof (because apparently the snow already on the ground wasn’t enough), it’s March now and we’d rather focus on other things than slush, chapstick and the two weeks in May that you cut from our summer vacation.

Hope to see you later rather than sooner,