Ice, sleet, and open-toed shoes

I have been telling people that I love having four seasons. I thought I did. But after yesterday's ice/snow/sleet mess, I think I've changed my tune. Bundling up the baby is a pain in the butt, walking the dog has lost its charm, visiting the park is not an option...in short, I don't like the snow! I didn't mind the snow growing up; I liked it. Snow meant good skiing/snowboarding conditions, the possibility of school being canceled (which, when you grow up in Erie is RARE), and hours of outdoor play building snow forts and snow men. It was not really an inconvenience, mostly because, in Erie, you only go places by car, your dog doesn't need walked three times a day when you have a big yard, and snow is a a way of life. Well, snow in Chicago is a way of life, too, but it is MUCH more inconvenient because life here is so pedestrian.

So, on our way to the BP holiday party last night, Andy and I were both reflecting on the fact that it certainly wasn't sleeting and snowing in Houston. After the party, which was at the Chicago Cultural Center, we walked a few blocks to the Hard Rock Hotel to have a nightcap with some of Andy's co-workers. I hadn't anticipated walking, and my jazzy open-toed shoes were not cut out for the trek. As my toes lost all feeling while I shielded my face from the whipping winds off of Lake Michigan, I changed my mind. I love the three seasons.