Jack Frost should buy the next round; Not why I like summer

I hate snow.

Snow.

Winter.

Any ice that's outside of a glass, pitcher or martini shaker.

Today it is a beautiful, sunny day outside and everyone has the sense of spring coming. Living in a northern clime, you can sense everyone breathing a sigh of relief when the bombardment of cold and snow starts to lift - like everyone was worried that this time it just simply would never end. Okay, maybe I'm the only one who feels that way, but the single greatest perk of being a writer is that you're paid to project.

The thing about not liking the winter is that you constantly have to answer the rather pointed observation, "You don't like winter? You must not ski." It is often delivered with a look that adds an unspoken condensation. There are two variations on this, either you're an idiot and you're just sad. I have had this exact exchange 846 times in my life.

There's the rare times someone says skating instead of skiing. Or maybe sledding. The funny thing about this seemingly iron clad argument is that your view on winter hinges entirely on being outside during it. I have heard people say that they don't like summer, but I have never heard anyone once say, with an uneasy look in their eye, "You must not like baseball."

I don't ski. Nor do I play baseball. I do, however, type slightly angry rants into a semi-anonymous blog. And that's a hobby for all seasons.