When you move to the frozen tundra (aka Minnesota) you expect snow. Lots and lots of snow. Drifts of snow that freeze into drifts of ice. Snow that starts on Halloween and doesn’t melt until after Cinco de Mayo.

Serious snow.

And I hate serious snow.

I love the fast falling, fast melting snow of the Southeast, the kind that stops everyone in their tracks. Snow in the Southeast means staying home from work, making hot cocoa and watching snow flakes fall while wearing flannel pajamas. Snow in Minnesota means strapping on your Joan of Arctic boots, scraping off the car and going out into the cruel world as if nothing unusual is happening.

That’s why it’s been a pleasant surprise that so far we’ve gotten exactly three inches of snow. And it melted! That’s right, not only has it been dry, it’s been “warm,” or at least warm in terms of Minnesota Novembers. Today it was 42 degrees! Over Thanksgiving it was nearly 55!

It doesn’t look like we’re going to break the streak any time soon. The local weather guys are predicting a flurry of snow tomorrow and this weekend, but not enough to ski on. And there isn’t any significant snow predicted between now and mid-December, the furthest out the weather scientists look. We could be looking at what Minnesotans call a brown Christmas. That’s a brown Christmas in a state that has white Christmases 72% of the time.

All this warm, dry weather means we’ve already skipped a whole month of winter. For someone spending her first winter in the frozen tundra, this feels like a major win. I’m  as proud as if I’d controlled the weather myself.

But the locals, not so much. Some of my coworkers who are from Minnesota or nearby states, have been lamenting the fact there’s no snow on the ground yet. They want real snow, feet of snow, piles of the stuff. Today someone actually said we “need” some snow.

And that was the moment I realized I’ll never really fit in here. Because I know — you never “need” snow. Never.

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