[Inspired by this daily prompt]

New England winters get old, REAL old, after 50 years.  Sure, they start out great: sledding, skating, lots of snow days and hot chocolate when you’re a kid.  Later, when you’re young and single and living in the city, they might mess up your commute, delay a flight or two, or worst of all, force you to contemplate slashing your upstairs neighbor’s tires when he parks in the spot you spent an hour shoveling and had clearly “saved” with an antique trash can.  But, it’s not until you have kids, a house, and a driveway all your own, that you really start to HATE them.  (Don’t even get me started on snowblowers, ice dams, frozen pipes, black ice, and roof rakes.)

This is why so many New Englanders, the minute we have even the smallest amount of disposable income, cannot resist hopping on planes and flying three short hours to Florida in January, February, and March.  Now the winters aren’t always hot and sunny in Florida, but they are reliably better (much better) than from where we came.

Sometimes, the most satisfying thing about being in Florida is hearing about the New England weather you’re missing while you’re down there.  Whether you’re in Disneyworld, or at the beach, or simply strolling around outside between grocery shopping trips to Publix, it’s very satisfying to read something like this in The Boston Globe:

Monday and Tuesday will have highs in the mid- to low 20s, but the windchill effect could be down to single digits for Monday and as low as zero to -10 degrees for Tuesday. Up to 4 inches of snow is expected. 

Ha! And I’m not there.