It's a Wind-Based Winter

This place that I now live in has made me happy with the negligible snowfall. It also allows me to laugh when a centimetre dusting of the stuff causes 2-hour school delays.

What I'm not so pleased with, however, is the bitter, bitter wind that seemingly decided to make this city its home. I swear, it carries a switchblade, and uses it to cut to the bone every time I take a step outside. So painful is it that I've stopped caring about looking anything close to resembling pleasant to the eyes, and have taken to wearing ugly, Thinsulate-lined Sorels on my feet, over top of two pairs of socks, and densely-knit wool mittens over a pair of cashmere lined leather gloves.

But, you know, I think not having an ever-present blanket of snow on the ground makes the pain worthwhile.