Dear Winter,

As I looked at the fresh bruises on my elbow and knee this morning from our last tussle, I made the hard decision that I want to leave. Well, not leave as in forever, but I think we should see other people, you know, take a break from each other for a while. 

I don’t want to rehash stuff, but all I was trying to do was haul my Costco bags in the house and you just had to put a fresh foot of snow out to hide the  lump of ice I tripped over.  It was kind of quick ski down the sloping driveway using my knee and elbow for skis. And you laughed and just kept on snowing as I crawled back up to dig my groceries out  trying to find the avocados and apples that took off like squirrels skittering through the snow. I’ll admit I said some really unkind things about you. Do you know how far swear words travel in the cold crisp air you provide?

After all it’s not like you’ve been devoted to me, staying here where you belong. You’ve been seeing others.  You helped to “Keep Portland Weird” by blanketing the zoo with snow  and spending time playing with the animals there.  Don’t try to deny it because your antics with the elephants were all over the internet.

Now you are hanging out in Vancouver.  Winter, are you just mocking me because I’m not spending so much time in the city I love?  There you are spreading your love around when you belong here in the north.  You’d better look over your shoulder for Spring because it’s time for the Vancouverites to start letting me know “the crocus are up this high, the daffs are blazingly yellow, the golf courses are open, the trees are in bloom”.  All those things they feel the need to remind us of as we stay with you for another two months. You’re messing around for a fast fling down there. What happens in Vancouver doesn’t stay in Vancouver and you’re just spreading your love around this year.

It’s not like our relationship is all bad.  There’s nothing like moonlight on snow and trees decorated with clouds of white.  There’s nothing like a walk in the quiet that blankets of snow provide. And yes, you still take my breath away sometimes.  Usually when it’s 30 below, you suck the air right out of me.

But the abuse this year has been too much. When I stepped off the deck to get firewood and slipped, spraining my ankle as I fell ass over teakettle,  I hated you with a vengeance. Yes, I was wearing my 7 year old Crocs (beloved by nerds and gardeners everywhere) which are not winter shoes and have soles worn smooth as a baby’s bottom, but it was no excuse for you trying to hurt me.  I’m tired of you trying to remake me as you dry my skin to dehydrate me into one of the little dried apple dolls we used to make.  That look is over.

So Winter, I want a break.  I want to see other seasons.  I want an open  relationship.  I’ll come back to you in the late fall and we can talk about a better relationship moving forward.

Sign me,

Wanting to wear high heels, not ice cleats

P.S.  I still do love our walks in the woods in the moonlight