March is about that time of year when everyone in Minnesota starts to get antsy for spring. We start wearing bright colors, dusting off our flip-flops, and even splurging on pedicures. What everyone always seems to forget is that most of the time, March is the snowiest month in Minnesota. What throws everyone off (and gets their hopes up) is that March also happens to be a bipolar son-of-a-bitch, and a tease at that. She’s just as likely to tempt us with 60, 70, sometimes 80 degree weather as she is to dump on us. As much as we like to think that March means the start of spring, and they stick spring break in there just to be confusing, the simple truth is that in Minnesota it really is just an extension of winter.
My birthday is in March, so I am one of the few painfully aware of the limitations of March weather. I was not surprised, then, at the foot of snow that accumulated on my driveway overnight last night and into this morning. I was, however, pleasantly surprised to find myself with a snow day. Child and I stayed home, had a lazy morning in pajamas, went and played/shoveled in the snow, and baked chocolate chip cookies. It was about as perfect of a day as a snow day can be.
The bulk of my friends and family are not amused by our snow. They are not amused by March. They are not amused by winter in general. I admit that I, too, get a tad wistful when walking down the flip-flop aisle in Target as I’m doing my birthday shopping, but in general I love it. I love winter, I love the cold, and I love Minnesota. The fact that our winters are so harsh and lengthy seems to unite people who may or may not have anything else in common. There’s a sense of camaraderie when we’re scraping the ice off our cars in -30 degree weather, and we enjoy scoffing at the “winters” experienced elsewhere. As I’ve told my bestie repeatedly, I’ve never seen more of my neighbors than when there’s a blizzard.
Such was the case, again, today. Neighbors I haven’t seen in months were outside playing with their kids and attempting to unbury their cars. Rather than be the desperate damsel who waits for the menfolk in her life to shovel her driveway, I decided to be active and shovel it myself. I got about 1/4 of the driveway done when my neighbor took pity on me and came over with his snow blower. Thank God, or I never would have made it.
They say that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. In Minnesota she’s more likely to start as a lion, be a lamb for about a week and a half, and then revert back to lion for the rest of the month. It’s a pain in the ass, and it takes some getting used to, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
prettyandink 