Winter, I think I … dislike you with an intensity that makes me want to apply the four letter H-word to my feelings.

I kind of sort of gave up Diet Coke this winter. I quit stocking it in the house and buying it at work. Long has DC been my only source of caffeine and one of my few vices and, lo, I am bereft without it these many days.

This winter is making me want to replace the soda with alcohol. Seriously and forsoothly. A can or two of beer at work, a few glasses of the hard stuff at home in the evening — I’m an embarrassingly cheap drunk, so I think it’ll work for me to be passed out or vomiting the remainder of the winter. It’ll take my mind off the endless succession of cold days and expanse of friggin’ ice across my property. Vomit takes your mind off a lot of things.

I haven’t ridden a horse since November, but then I haven’t had a day outside without slipping at least once since then either. Some days are just a controlled sliding/slipping/skating activity from one place to the other. And just when I think, oh hey, I can make it on my regular route from point A to point B safely if I avoid area 11 there — then we get a day when the temperature jumps 30 degrees and it’s warm enough to melt the top layer of snow and ice (or we get a freezing rain) and we start all over again.

When I get really wound up and ready to do something like swear to quit consuming ice cubes and frozen foods in protest of this mistreatment, I read about the flooding in Australia and the landslides in Brazil and I have to say, well, it’s just ice. It’ll melt and my house will still be here. There’s something to be glad about, Pollyanna.

At that point, I feel all deflated and a little guilty for complaining about something that’ll be a non-issue in a few months and not seeing the bright side.

The bright side sparkles like ice at: