Boo to all you naysayers of snow, with your complaining ways and endless wailing. How dare you whine about such clean pure beauty, that which makes the world all sparkly and new. Those bitter temperatures can be a bit unfriendly, but they push us to cuddle, to nest, to make home glow.
This, this, my friends, is my nemesis, oh early spring. How unfriendly you are with your drudgery, your mud, the death of white socks. How you bring trama to my laundry room, my entry way, my drive way.
Your puddles and flooding, though fleeting, are pure torture to me. The ruts I must climb, day in and day out, as I am forced to leave the safety of my now muddied abode. You have destroyed the clear view, as the fortress melts, exposing layer after layer of sand on snow.
Please hurry. Please go, so that daffodils and dandelions can inhabit once again. I will be so happy when you're gone.
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