I’m absolutely, positively sick to death of the weather we’re experiencing this winter. I hate the cold. I hate the snow, the half-snow and the freezing rain that alternately assault us. I hate the pea-gravel that my boots track into the house. I hate warming up the car, and scraping the hoarfrost from the windows before I drive. (I hate sharing the roads with the dopes that don’t bother clearing their windows of ice while they ‘drive’, phone in hand, in a hurry because they didn’t leave adequate time to reach their destination.) I hate the potholes caused by the water that seeps into the ill-maintained roadways. I hate the pile of clothing I shed before crawling into bed. I hate the layers and layers of additional clothing I need when I ride. I hate waiting for the shower to deliver warm water in the morning.

I think you might get the general idea. But if not, just ask.

How I long for the hazy, hot and humid summer. Give me a hundred plus degrees and get ready to hear me say, “What? That’s it? Is that all you got? Bring it on!” HHH? Uh uh, it should be HHHH with the extra H standing for Hellish.

Here’s my standard for perfect weather. Close your eyes. Now, stride into the ocean. Can you tell where the air and water meet? If the answer is negative, the weather’s perfect.

Did I mention I hate winter? Well, I do.