Curmudgenly winter posting

The older I get, the more I detest the winter season.  Walking the family dog this morning, the mercury hovered at 3 degrees and neither of us wanted to be out there.  The forecast for the weekend is snow, with at least some flurries expected every day next week.  I used to look forward to snow and the winter activities associated with the white stuff, like skiing, hot chocolate and ice skating.  Now I wonder if my tractor will start so I can clear the driveway and how many dollars are going up the chimney with each start of the oil burner.  Instead of a getaway to some frozen mountain, I long for palm trees and fairways.  The next person who waxes poetic about the wonders of winter should be boiled in hot chocolate and buried with a  stake of holly through their heart.  Bah, Humbug!